The Paths We Follow
by LittleWhiteWolf
Summary: It is four years since the Blight ended. Alistair rules with Anora and Saoirse, his companion, leads the Grey Wardens. Their paths have not crossed since his corronation, but that's about to change when Saoirse returns to Denerim with a small child in tow
1. Chapter 1

Four long years after the Blight ended, with Riordan successfully ending the life of the arch demon, Alistair rules as king of Ferelden alongside his queen Anora. His fellow Grey Warden, a Dalish elf named Saóirsè, travels the land finding new recruits and slowly re-building the ranks of Wardens. Their paths have not crossed for three and a half years when Saóirsè broke off contact, but that's about to change...

Chapter One

Alistair found it was taking longer and longer to get himself up and dressed in the morning. He sat on the edge of his vast bed, wearing nothing but his nightshirt and his mothers pendant, facing the window with its exquisite views over the golden countryside of Ferelden and just stared at the streaks of colour over the horizon. His clothes were laid out by the armoire, the finest velvets and silks, but he made no move to dress himself. He longed for the worn leather straps and buckles and the cool feeling of steel against his body. His Drake scale armour had not been donned for years now. Duncans shield was mounted above the window as a memorial to both that Grey Warden and the one who had found the shield and presented it as a gift to Alistair. Anora hated the sight of it. She hated a lot of things these days.

Alistair had not taken the news well six months into his reign as king that he would have to marry her. There was, it seemed, no more suitable match and the worry that he might not produce an heir due to his tainted blood and shortened lifespan (just a few of the perks of being a Grey Warden) made the nobles distinctly uneasy. And so a marriage of convenience had arisen. Anora was much quicker to come around to the idea than Alistair had been. He presumed that six months locked in the tower might have had something to do with it. That and the fact that she was ruthlessly ambitious. Alistair could not help but be reminded of Orzammar when he thought of their union; of the three sons of King Endrin Aeducan particularly Bhelen. The man had slaughtered his own brother and framed his second brother for the murder purely to get his rear end on the throne. Anora wanted the throne of Ferelden so badly and Alistair was in her way. Should an heir be produced Alistair could not help but worry what kind of child this would be, what drive and cruel aspirations Anora might impart on the child. He did not doubt that her desperation for a child rested on this goal. And desperate she truly was. Ever month he watched her face grow more drawn and more pinched so that she hardly resembled the beauty she had been when her father was regent for those short months. Her father who had died at Alistairs hands. He snorted—he could not blame her for hating him really. When they lay together in a room separate from either of their sleeping quarters at Anoras request, there was no love there and scarcely even like. Alistair performed his function just as he performed any other kingly duty—with a blank face and a mind that was elsewhere.

There had been one time, only a few months ago, where he had allowed his mind to wander onto the face of another Warden. He did not invite her into his mind, but suddenly there she was, Saóirsè, the flame haired Dalish elf he had met at Ostagar and whose Joining he had supervised. She was feisty and fierce and so, so beautiful it had made him ache to look upon her, let alone form any coherent sentences. He had gladly followed her on their quest to gather armies for the final battle against the arch demon and had watched her revel in that role. He saw how she spared anyone she could, from the blood mage who had poisoned Eamon, to the Antivan assassin sent to kill her. She only drew her blades against those who could not be reasoned with and when she did it was a sight to behold. Alistair was never more at home than when he had a sword and a shield in his hand but to watched Saóirsè made him look like a bumbling fool. She took to every battle, every small skirmish as though it was a dance and she whirled and ducked and spun throughout, those blades glinting as they spilled darkspawn blood. She was a Goddess of war with grace and compassion and that made people want to follow her. And when Alistair confessed his love for her, a love than ran far deeper than a love for any leader he had only expected to be rebuffed, but kindly. He had had to remember to breathe when she did not gently turn him down but instead took his hand and gave him her heart, body and soul.

That night with Anora, when Saóirsè came uninvited into Alistairs mind and driven him half mad. Anoras eyes when they parted were confused; a little fear and a little hope crossed over her face. She even granted him a small smile and held her crossed fingers up before leaving the room. Alistair could barely move for shaking. He knew Anora believed there had been something different about that experience and she pinned all her hopes on a child from that union. Her disappointed, therefore, was so much greater that it was felt throughout the entire palace.

Saóirsè had been Alistairs only love and he regretted every second he spent away from her, made all the more terrible to endure because it was he who had sent her away. Angry at her for pushing his name forward at the Landsmeet and confused by her reluctance to rip Loghain limb from limb and bewildered by the fact that she seemed to have suddenly developed a coldness towards him he spoke to her unhappily afterwards.

"_So that's it then?" I said. Saóirsè seemed to brace herself at my words, all of our companions standing uneasily around us. "I'm to be king."_

"_Are you angry?" She asked without any feeling behind the words._

"_Well, I'm not thrilled at the prospect." I said sarcastically, then sighed. "But duty is duty and I would rather not see any Mac Tir on the throne. I do not trust Anora any more than I trusted her snake of a father."_

_I saw Morrigan raise an eyebrow out of the corner of my eye and turned my back on her. I leaned towards Saóirsè and saw Leliana tense. I gritted my teeth. They were all here for her, a fact which made me both warm to them and despise them in equal measures. "Can we talk...in private?"_

_She nodded wearily and we left to find a small room off the main hall. _

_She stood and faced me although I know she did not have a clue what I was about to say—her reaction proved as much. _

"_I'm sorry I'm being hard on you." I said. "You are only doing what you think is best...and so am I."_

"_What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. I breathed out heavily. _

"_This thing between us..." I started and saw her face fall. "It can't go on any longer. We have to end it."_

_For a long while she said nothing and made no move to alter her position of standing before me with her arms crossed over her chest. So much smaller than me yet she had always seemed like a giant for all her confidence and bravery. Now she was just as tiny as any other elf._

"_Can I ask why?"_

"_If I am to be king, and it would seem I am," I explained. "Then I have certain duties that need tending to. They're going to want an heir otherwise the country will be in no better state of civil rest than it was when Cailan died. Without an heir, when I die, the country will be ripped apart again."_

"_Orzammer proves you wrong." She said quietly. "I did not see you fighting to put Bhelen on the throne because of his royal blood. We agreed that Lord Harrowmont was a better candidate."_

"_Yes, but we aren't dwarves." I said running my hand over my face. "The nobles will never stand for it."_

"_So why can't I...we..." she tailed off showing uncharacteristic cowardliness. I could understand that. _

"_For Grey Wardens to produce a child..." I said somberly." Well, for one to conceive one is a difficulty, but for two? A damn miracle."_

_Her eyes grew dark as they narrowed at me. "So I'm not good enough? Because I'm Dalish and because I'm a Grey Warden? Two things I am proud of, yet they are your reason for ending this?" _

_I swallowed. "Yes." I said._

_She looked away and I allowed myself a brief moment to let the mask fall and to let the pain stab at me like I deserved. Then she whirled on me and thrust her fist against my jaw. For all her stature she threw her entire weight into that punch and my head snapped back and I fell against the wall. She grabbed her fist with her other hand—she had punched with a closed fist that was how angry she was. Her face was a picture of pain, but she hid it well. My jaw and the back of my head both throbbed but I did not complain. It was nice to have some external pain to distract from my internal anguish._

"_You knew this was going to happen." Saóirsè choked out. "You knew that it would likely come to this, to your claiming the throne. And so you knew we never had a future. And yet you pursued me, you told me you loved me and you lay with me time and time again." Tears sprang to her eyes but she ignored them and so I did, too. "All that bluff, all that awkwardness...was it real? Was I truly the first or am I merely one in a long line of conquests?"_

_My face clouded. "No, of course not. You were the first, the __**only**__. Not only in my bed, but in my heart also."_

_She scoffed. "How can I believe a thing you say?" Her voice was no more than a whisper. "How can I trust you? You've broken my heart."_

_My own broke then at her words, but it was me who broke them both. She handed me back my heart and I returned the pieces of hers and I wanted to die right that moment. Had the arch demon been there I would have thrown myself at it to end the suffering. _

_But nothing that dramatic happened. Saóirsè wiped her eyes with her good hand (she was favouring the other) and straightened up returning to her usual leadership posture. She smoothed down her untameable hair—the hair I had buried my face in on our first night together, it smelled of autumn and warmth and forest—and fixed steely eyes on mine. "You will not be fighting in the final battle." My eyes widened and I started to interrupt her. "You are too—"_

"_That's not— " but she powered on only raising her voice enough to drown mine out._

"_You are too important to Ferelden and you will not be fighting."_

_I glared at her breathing heavily. "What gives you the right—?"_

"_I am still your captain." Saóirsè said. "You named me general when you took the title of king and so you will do as I command in matters of war if nothing else."_

_I meant to argue. I meant to shout and scream and refuse, but no words came out. I merely stared into her face, usually so open but this night it was shut off from me. I had done this to myself, done this to her. I deserved no honour or glory. I was not an honourable man. _

_She was correct; I had led her on. Not intentionally...no that's a poor excuse. I knew inevitably that once Cailan had died that I would have to take up the crown. And I knew I would have to sacrifice Saóirsè and my happiness to do so. Yet somehow I made myself forget that her happiness would also be sacrificed. I allowed her to believe I could be the man she saw in me because in doing so she made me happier than I had ever been in my life. _

_She stormed from the room with me slowly trailing her heels. I would not have followed, but there was only one exit and it went through a short hallway out the other exit—right into the main hall where our companions still stood. _

_As I entered I heard Saóirsè throw over her shoulder to the others: "Our king will not be fighting." And then she swept out of the room without even a pause. _

_Leliana didn't even hesitate before she followed her. She didn't even look back at me so I had an idea she knew what had transpired. Wynne gave me a knowing look and then left the room as well. I stood as all of our companions left, not one word spoken to me. Finally I thought I was alone but when I glanced up I saw Sten standing opposite me. The quanari spoke gravely to me._

"_Of all human decisions that are foreign to me, I do understand this one." He said. I just stared back, blankly. "Nevertheless, I can see that while I understand this decision I do not agree with it."_

_And then he left and I stood alone with my grief and shame. _

When Alistair finally made it to the dining hall breakfast had long finished. There was no sign of Anora, which made him thankful. However as he turned and headed for the kitchen (he supposed he ought to find some food in spite of a distinct lack of appetite) he ran into Eamon. He groaned inwardly—he had forgotten Eamon was staying. Outwardly he gave a bland smile.

"Good morning, Eamon." He said. "I trust you slept well?"

"Indeed I did," Eamon replied, then frowned. "May I have a word with you?"

"Certainly". _**Certainly not.**_

Alistair led Eamon back up stairs to his study and sat on the desk with Eamon facing him. "So, what news?"

"My liege—"

"Ahem."

"Alistair," Eamon corrected. "As you are no doubt aware, we are expecting a guest in Denerim in the next few days. I understand no royal welcome has been extended to suggest that she should stay in a guest suite here at the palace? This is not very good form."

"Guest?" Alistair said confused. "I am not aware. Why am I not aware? Where's my awareness?"

"Alistair," Eamon held up a hand to staunch the flow of words spewing from his kings mouth. "The Grey Warden is coming to Denerim."

Alistairs mouth went dry. "Grey Warden? Why we have several now, at least a handful, you will need to be more specific."

"Saóirsè Mahariel is coming to Denerim," Eamon said gently. "There is talk of her seeking a recruit from the Alienage."

Alistairs shoulders slumped. "Why did nobody seek to tell me?"

"Perhaps because they believe you already knew?" Eamon suggested. "Perhaps people still believe the two of you to be in close contact given that you are both Grey Wardens."

"Well they are mistaken." Alistair said glumly. "We are not in contact and have not been since I wed Anora. I don't think Saóirsè could take the hypocrisy of it."

"I expect this is why an invitation has not been extended to her party?" Eamon said. "Her companion, the Orlesian bard is staying in Denerim ahead of Saóirsès' arrival. I will send word to her. It would not do be seen to be disrespecting the head of the Ferelden Wardens."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Saóirsè felt quite ill as she entered the main gates of Denerim. She was travelling as incognito as possible, shirking her fancy Dragon Scale Armour in favour of the more inconspicuous leather armour. Her twin Dar'Misu' was sheathed on her back and within easy reach. Despite the Blight having ended four years ago, despite the fact that she had never returned to her Dalish clan she had never felt truly safe in human society. Those worn blades were her equivalent of a safety blanket.

She was not recognised as she wandered up the cobbled streets, much changed in the few years since the Blight ended. Denerim had been hit very hard and it still bore the scars from the battle. Saóirsè glanced toward the high rooftop of Fort Drakon where the arch demon had been slain. She knew the interior well having been imprisoned therein with Alistair after being arrested by Ser Cauthrien. She shivered as the image leapt into her mind; waking up to find Alistairs concerned face peering down at her, his hands cradling her head. Both stripped of their armour and weaponry, she had had to lure a guard over to pick his pocket for the key. Then she smiled as she remembered how they had stolen armour and befriended some new recruits. In the end the two prisoners were allowed to walk right out of the prison by just acting like they were part of the guard. Alistair had barely been able to contain his glee. On their way back to Eamons Denerim estate they had taken a little detour to congratulate each other on fooling the guard, meaning they looked a little flushed when they came to face Anora. Not something she had missed—the woman had an eye for finding threats to her power.

Saóirsè sighed. She had been no more a threat that any other elf. Not good enough for the throne so not good enough for Alistairs love. Simple as that, yet the thought still caused her to feel sick to her stomach at the thought. And now she was back in Denerim, the home of the royal palace and so home to the king of Ferelden.

She followed the directions Leliana had provided her with and found that they were staying in Marjolaines' old house. After the Blight Saóirsè had travelled with Leliana to Orlais to take Riordans' body back to his brethren for a funeral. Following that the two women had tracked Marjolaine down and Leliana had ended things on a more permanent basis. Then Saóirsè had learned the ritual of the Joining process from the Orlesian Wardens and finally she and Leliana began returned to Ferelden to hunt down possible new recruits. She would be forever grateful for the friendship Leliana had offered her over the years.

Saóirsè pushed open the door into the hallway. "Hello?" she called. She pushed the door to enter the living quarters. There was a flurry of movement and a squeal and a small creature leapt up at Saóirsè. She fell backwards onto her rear end and laughed. A little girl with strawberry blonde hair and mischievous green eyes grinned down at Saóirsè. She clasped Saóirsès' cheeks, one in each hand and planted a big kiss on her nose. Saóirsè could not help but laugh.

"What is this? Some form of greeting I am unfamiliar with?" Saóirsè asked smiling broadly, her spirits lifted by the small girl. "Leliana? I thought you were going to teach this little monster some manners!" The girl climbed off Saóirsè and the woman got to her feet. The Orlesian bard entered the room from the kitchen, also smiling.

"I have tried, friend, but so far she is not a quick leaner." Leliana shrugged. "What can I say? She is raised along the road and she will learn the customs of the traveller."

Saóirsè frowned. The road was no place for a child to grow up, but she said nothing. They had had this discussion before and it always ended in tears. The crux of the matter was that Saóirsè did not want to lose Leliana. She unstrapped her Dar'Misu sheathes from her back and rested them against the table.

She felt a tug at her belt and looked down into the face of the child. "Did you bring me anything?"

"Catriona!" Leliana scolded. "So rude!"

"Yes, listen to your mother, Cat," Saóirsè joined in. "You must wait before being given gifts." A twinkle crept into her eye. "Even if those gifts are amazing and special!"

Catriona giggled with delight and Saóirsè sank to the floor and withdrew a small wooden toy sword. The toy was intricately designed, and the 'blade' was quite blunt so that it was safe for children to play with. Saóirsè pointed to the pommel. "See there?" she gestured to a tiny carving of a griffon. "That is what Grey Wardens used to ride into battle on way, way back in ages gone by."

"A Grey Warden like you?" Cat asked, her eyes wide.

"Yes." Saóirsè agreed. "Just like me."

"Thank you." Cat said as she ran outside to play.

"There are those manners." Saóirsè said gladly as Leliana called after Cat to remind her to stay close to the house. She watched the tangly-headed blonde become immediately immersed in a gaggle of local children, eagerly examining her new sword. "Darn girls been in Denerim a mere three days and she already has all the children eating out of her hands."

"It's all the exciting tales she knows." Leliana said proudly.

"It's the fighting skills she's been taught." Saóirsè corrected.

"Either way, I find myself not worrying too much about her adventures on the market." Leliana said happily, then went over to the elf and embraced her, planting a delicate kiss on her cheek. "Welcome...well, to home for the time being."

Saóirsè grimaced and went to sit at the kitchen table. "Yes, but hopefully for only a short stay." She said glumly. Leliana caught her eye then looked away quickly. Saóirsè groaned—she knew that look.

"Out with it." She ordered wearily. "Come on, what terrible news have you for me?"

Leliana retrieved an unopened letter from her pocket and passed it to Saóirsè. "It bears the royal seal, Saóirsè."

Her stomach dropped as she reached for the letter. It was innocuous enough but she was deathly afraid of the contents. "How did they know we were here?"

"They have much better ears than Loghain did." Came Leliana's simple explanation. "A great irony, no? Considering Loghain was a paranoid tyrant, terrified we would depose him whereas these two rule over a country at peace."

"That'll be Anora, mark my words." Saóirsè said darkly. She turned the letter over in her hands. "What do you reckon is inside?"

"Most likely an invite." Leliana said. "Politics. They cannot know that you are here without extending an invite."

"Hmm, and if it is an invite and we refuse?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Then we send a message to all of Denerim, possibly all of Ferelden and beyond that, that you, that is, the Grey Wardens, want nothing to do with the King and Queen. The snub could cause great embarrassment for the royals and may even cause the nobles to question their ruling. At the very least we put the wheels of the gossip mills in motion."

"But we _**do**_ want nothing to do with the king and queen." Saóirsè argued dejectedly.

"Politics." Leliana said again.

Saóirsè ran her fingers along the letter, before gulping and lifting the flap. Her eyes scanned the brief words.

_**The royal palace of Denerim wish to hereby extend a formal invitation for Saoirse Mahariel of the Grey Wardens and Commander General of Denerim and her party to stay at the palace for the duration of her visit and until her business is concluded. You are expected at the palace as soon as you are fit to arrive, where a banquet will be held in your honour.**_

_**HRH Alistair Theirin HRH Anora Theirin**_

"Well, it's formal and soulless." Saóirsè decided. "It's signed by both halves of the happy couple so he would have...would have had to at least read the thing if not...write it..." Saóirsè was shocked to find that a sob was working its way up her throat. She swallowed hard and tentatively brushed her fingertips along his signature, as if in doing so she could touch him. Leliana watched with sadness in her eyes. "What do we do?"

Leliana went over to Saóirsè and crouched before her, resting her hand on her shoulder. "We get dressed up beautifully, lock things up and head up to the palace this evening. We send servants to collect our things and we have a great time at the banquet and then we sleep on feather mattresses in huge four poster beds like we deserve!"

Saóirsè gave a weak smile and Leliana delicately brushed a tear from her eye. "Right then," Leliana straightened up. "We must go shopping I think."

Saóirsè groaned and sank down further in her chair. "Must we?"

"We must."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Alistair made his way down to the market district with a dark mood clouding his mind. She could be here, in his city, right this very minute. He would see her at the banquet so why the urgency to walk among the people today? Was he that desperate to see her? And if so to what end? To apologise? How exactly did one say "I'm sorry I tore your heart from you on the eve of battle" after four years of seeing one another? He did not know for what purpose he had left the palace but he was heading for the market district regardless. It was as if his feet were in command instead of his head.

He was greeted happily by all he passed; he was a king who enjoyed mingling with the commoners, as Anora put it. She preferred mingling with the nobles, but each to their own he supposed. He was dressed in simple clothes (or as simple as he was permitted by his wife to wear), in light greens shot through with gold, that brought out the colour in his eyes. He remembered Saóirsè—_Maker, stop me from thinking about her!—_had described his eyes as being like a summer day in the forest where her Dalish clan had lived. The green of the trees interspersed by golden, dappled light. To which he had responded that her own dark green eyes were more like the inner core of the wildest woods; beautiful and hypnotic to behold, but if one was not careful one might find himself living out the remainder of his days in the woods in a trance. They had been very much in love then. Full of the first flushes of experiencing physical intimacy with one another and so describing similes between each other's features and attractive objects had been very romantic, rather than nauseating as it was to recall. Alistair felt a blush creep over his fair skin as his cruel, cruel mind thrust upon him an image of Saóirsè in his tent. Just a simple image of her sitting on his bedroll, her back turned slightly to him, her golden skin exposed in the morning sunshine that was creeping in through a worn hole in the canvass that needing repairing. Her back was curved with one leg bent underneath her, the other raised so that she could rest her hands and face on that knee. He traced the arch of her spine, picking out each vertebrae and watching how, even though she did not move, her skin rose in hundreds of tiny goose bumps and her breathing hitched just a little. Enough that he knew that his touch was affecting her, which made his body react into a sudden state of arousal. She had turned to him and without any words being spoken they had fallen onto one another and within the fewest motions became one and quietly and lazily stolen a perfect moment in the dawn light.

He swallowed and shook his head as a noblewoman whose name he could not place greeted him warmly. He nodded to her and moved onwards. He passed Wades Emporium, which was under new management since Wade had decided he was no longer any good at creating masterpieces so left to travel to the Frostback Mountains in the hope of obtaining more Dragon Scales to hone his art. He had not been heard of for some time. The shop was currently undergoing refurbishment to make it more in keeping with the Dwarven aesthetic Janar was accustomed to. This, Alistair knew, was Saóirsè and Oghrens doing. She had maintained strong links with King Pyral Harrowmont of Orzammer and was working to encourage more dwarves to work in Fereldens cities so as to forge stronger links between the underground and above. Alistair mused on this as he passed the Alienage, which had also undergone severe restructuring. This was one of Alistairs few proud achievements during his few years reign. He had broken down the barrier separating the Alienage from the rest of Denerim; it was taking longer to break down the prejudice between both races, but having passed the Equality Act meant that none could be discriminated against due to their race or status. It had been a long time coming but the Alienage was a much nicer place to live and it was now not uncommon for the Elves to come to the market district to trade. At least it was something to be proud of. No heirs to speak of, a queen who despised him and nobles who were growing increasingly anxious about their kings desperation to get out of the city, but at least he could be proud of that one thing. He wondered if Saóirsè knew what he had done for the Elves...?

_Oh, Maker, stop it_, he scolded himself harshly.

He sighed as he walked and as he rounded a corner he felt something run smack into his legs. He blinked and looked down. A petite girl with reddish blonde hair and green eyes looked up at him from where she sat on the street. She was holding a small wooden toy sword and was peering at his face. It took him a moment to remember that he ought to speak to the child he had just knocked on her rear. He crouched down. "Hey, I'm sorry little girl. Are you alright?"

"I'm alright." She replied stoutly. He smiled at her.

"May I help you up?" he asked. "As a way of saying sorry?"

"You may," she said taking his outstretched hand. On her feet she could see eye to eye while he knelt before her. "But as for saying sorry, I think you can do better than that."

Alistair burst out laughing. "I guess you're right. What is your name?"

"Catriona." Came the reply.

"Well Catriona," Alistair said in a mock formal tone of voice. "I think we had best find your mummy before I get into trouble for keeping you." He got to his feet. "Do you know where she is?"

Cat nodded, her curls bouncing. "Over here." She said taking Alistairs hand and pulling him along behind her. Alistair smiled broadly as this tiny child dragged him across the market, sword still firmly in hand.

"Who are you?" she asked, without looking at Alistair.

"Oh, I'm nobody special." He replied. "My name is Alistair. And I'm pleased to meet you."

"Please' to meet you, too." Cat said turning her head as she walked and flashing him a toothy smile. His heart warmed to see her innocent and happy face, streaked across one cheek with dirt.

"Catriona?" Alistair heard a familiar voice. "There you are."

Alistair looked up to see Leliana walking towards them, a few packages under her arm. His smile froze on his face, unsure how she would react to him.

"Greetings, Leliana." He said quietly. She hesitated a moment then smiled widely.

"It is good to see you, Al—your Highness." She said. He held up a hand.

"Please," he said. "We shared far too much on too dark a road to be tripped up by formal titles." He realised he was still holding Cats hand so he let go. She stepped over to Leliana and began to peer at the parcels she held. "You look very well. I bumped into your daughter in the market and I was just bringing her back. You know, to her mother. In case she was lost."

To his surprise a pleasant laugh bubbled out of Leliana. "I see our sweet, childlike Grey Warden has not lost his charming way with words."

"You mean how they come out with no rhyme or reason or in any sensible way whatsoever and they keep coming with no way of knowing when they'll ever stop?" Alistair joked, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I just can't help myself it seems." He smiled, and then gestured to Cat who had turned her large eyes on him and was regarding him with a serious face. "Catriona is very adorable."

"Thank you." Leliana said. They stood in silence for a minute until it became too much for Alistair. He clapped his hands together.

"Well," he said loudly. "I had best get back. I will see you tonight...at the banquet? I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to it. There'll be nobles and dancing and possibly speeches. I do so excel at speeches. Either that or I am so bad at them which is why they keep forcing me to make more to practice. And I especially adore the way that everyone stares at me and listens to my every word. It's a dream come true, it really is."

Leliana smiled. She had not been sure who Alistair would be when she met him—surely four years would have changed him much? But she was pleased to see that for the most part he was much the same old Grey Warden. If his smile was a little stretched or his tone of voice a little unsteady, well, that could just be that he was nervous at the meeting after so many years. But it was his eyes that concerned Leliana most...the way they seemed so dark and dull and distant. He was changed, but perhaps only one who paid attention might notice.

"We will see you at the banquet, Alistair." She said warmly.

"We...?" Alistair gulped. "Will she...is she...?"

"Yes," Leliana confirmed with a kind look. "We will _**both**_ be there."

Alistair gave a nervous smile and a small wave then turned and strode off, his long legs making short work of the distance between Leliana and Cat and the gate to the palace.

From her hiding place (a stall which she had ducked behind upon seeing who was walking towards her and Leliana) Saóirsè saw it all but heard nothing. _Alistair_...

He was the same. Four years older, but much the same. His eyes, she could see, seemed sad and that touched her before she remembered that she, too, had sad eyes and that it was his doing. _No sympathy_, she thought harshly to herself. She watched him walk away, seemingly heading back for the palace. She waited for longer than she deemed necessary before she left her hiding place and made for where Leliana and Cat were standing.

Leliana took one look at Saóirsè' face and without a word herded both elf and child back to their house. Safely inside, Cat went over to the kitchen to fetch a snack and Leliana led Saóirsè over to her bed and sat her down. She slipped an arm around her friends shoulder. It was a credit to the measure of their friendship that Leliana did not ask how Saóirsè was feeling. Cat busied herself with fruit and kept her toy sword close by. Eventually Saóirsè spoke.

"That...was...hard."

"Seeing him?" Leliana asked carefully. "Or seeing him with Catriona?"

"Both." Saóirsè said. "What did he say about her?"

"He said she was adorable." Leliana answered. "She made him smile. He assumed she was mine."

"She _is_ yours." Saóirsè insisted, pulling out of Leliana's embrace. "You're as much a mother to her as I am. More so, given the amount of time I spend separated from her. Truth be told she probably thinks more of you as a mother."

"Saóirsè, you do this only to protect her." Leliana argued. "You're work expanding the ranks of Grey Wardens is essential to Ferelden and it is too dangerous to take Catriona everywhere with you."

"Thank you." Saóirsè said. "Even so I long for the day when I can pass the mantle to someone else and be the mother to Cat that she deserves. Knowing my luck when that day comes she will be all grown up." She stood and stretched herself. "It makes me uneasy thinking that Alistair knows about her. I don't want him to know I have a child."

Leliana said nothing. Saóirsè turned to her. "You think I'm wrong?"

"I think," she said very cautiously. "That you are acting on your own best interests, which does not make you wrong. However," she stood to face up to Saóirsè, although the bard was taller than the elf. "I do not think it is fair to Catriona to lie about her parentage."

"It is no lie." Saóirsè said, feeling anger rise. "You and I together are her parents. She knows this and she has no problem with telling anyone this. I just don't want him to know." She hesitated before continuing. "One of the reasons why Alistair decided we could not be together any longer was because Grey Wardens have trouble conceiving children. I can't just waltz into his palace and show off Cat. It is no secret that he and Anora are struggling to provide an heir."

Leliana sat back down. "Very well, I will respect your wishes."

Saóirsè turned on her heel and went over to Cat.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Quick Authors Note**__: Thanks to the three awesome people who have reviewed so far—you rock and it keeps me writing! _

_I'm loving this fic—its only my second for years and brought about purely from the coolness of Dragon Age and how involved it gets people. I had a baby girl back in July and apart from a NaNo novel this is one of my first forays back into writing, so I really do appreciate the comments. I also blame any and every typo and silly mistake on baby brain. Its my prerogative!_

_Anyway, many thanks and enjoy the chapter. It was fun to get inside Anoras head and writing Alistair from the perspective of his least favourite fan was a treat!_

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Chapter Four

Anora Theirin was a vision of beauty and elegance; however her face conveyed nothing but sadness as she gazed at her mirror image. Her handmaidens had just finished dressing her and crafting her hair into an elaborate style. The gown was golden in colour, the colour of the sun shining on wheat in August. The sleeveless, strapless bodice shimmered from the pearls and gems that were sewn into it. The skirt was full and had a long train. Her décolletage was bare except for one pearl that rested against her throat suspended on a fine gold chain. She wore delicate lace fingerless gloves on her hands which came up to her wrists, nicely displaying the enormous diamond ring and simple gold bands she wore on her left ring finger. She carried a matching lace fan, which she held listlessly in her hand. Her hair was half up and half down. Most of it was curled atop her head so that she was a good few inches taller than usual and in that was set a gold tiara set with pearls. The rest of her hair flowed down against her back, hiding the laces that secured her bodice in place.

She looked every part the ravishing young queen, yet she could not summon even a small smile to her painted face.

Anora had no desire to attend this banquet, yet there was no way that she could avoid the occasion. She had allowed herself to get her hopes up during this past months cycle and when she went a few days overdue she had felt like all her dreams were finally coming true. All hope had been cruelly dashed that morning when she awoke to a familiar dampness between her legs.

It was getting harder to put on a brave face. she received sympathy from her nurses and handmaidens, but none of them understood the pressure she was under. Producing an heir was the most important part of her career now. The days when she had had a big part to play in the ruling of her beloved country were long gone. Alistair was so unlike Cailan; he was more interested in ensuring that all races were given equal rights, in trying to close the poverty gap, in ascertaining what it was the people of Ferelden wanted and needed and in satisfying those demands. Cailen had been happy so long as he could play general, leaving Anora free to make the real decisions. The marriage had been a happy one, largely due to the fact that Anora was happy in her role as hands-on queen and that Cailen had been away for many months at a time. Yes, it had been a good pairing, but in hindsight Anora had to admit bitterly, that had left little time for them to set about producing an heir. They ought to have had it a lot easier than she and Alistair were finding things. Only three months ago Anora had been forced to increase their conception attempts to twice weekly instead of merely weekly. It was simply not working and she was losing the will to try. She had an alternative in mind which she would need to discuss with Alistair—negotiating the conception of their child and heir. She sighed, what would her father have thought of her?

At the memory of Loghain, Anora closed her eyes tight shut lest she give in to tears. That would never do—the maiden who had perfected the shading around her eyes would have to be recalled and there simply was not the time. Anora shuddered as she thought of how often she was forced to make pleasantries, forced to lay and make love to the man who had cleaved her father's head from his body. Her father had yielded to the Grey Wardens, admitted his mistakes and asked for the chance to make peace with his errors. The female Grey Warden, the Dalish elf, she had hesitated, Anora had seen it. She would not pledge her allegiance to Anora, but in that moment she had seen the elf relax her hostile pose, making Anora warm to her suddenly. Again that vindictive mistress hope had lit a flame in her breast. Hope that her father might be spared—it had not been beneath Anora to beg for it. But then Alistair, that ignorant fool, had vocally made his objections known and Anora saw the elf harden herself again. The sight was like a skewer through her heart and she had seen her father's eyes grow dull as he accepted his fate. Yes, he had made mistakes, but only with his country in mind. Anora could understand that. Was she not thinking of her country every time she let Alistair lay his hand on her body? Every time she allowed him to kiss her lips? Every time she spread her legs for him and closed her eyes in hope that this time it might be the last?

There had been no honour in her father's death in spite of his great achievements on the battlefield and that he had helped Ferelden retake her independence. The only reason he lay dead today was because the Dalish Warden had been blinded by her love for Alistair. She, Anora was certain, would have listened to rationale, were it not for her emotions clouding her judgement. For that reason, Anora placed the sole blame of Teryn Loghains execution on her shoulders. And for that Anora could never forgive her.

She sighed. It was nearly time for the banquet honouring the Wardens presence in Denerim to begin. But there was always time to throw up at the thought beforehand.

Alistair was in a bad mood. He was on his way to a banquet, which would later feature dancing—he hated making nice with the smarmy nobles and he loathed dancing. He would be brought face to face with his fellow Grey Warden—a woman he had crushed and hadn't seen for years. He was replete in his finery—he was wearing a gold codpiece that left far too little to the imagination (the subject of his virility was a hot topic amongst the nobles and he had been advised that it would not hurt to display a little of himself in order to slightly quell the rumours that he was not up to task). But worst of all was the conversation he had just finished having with Anora.

"_Alistair, we have to talk."_

"_Yeees?" I say warily._

"_We have not...been successful in our attempts again."_

"_I'm sorry." Just a stock response now, although my pride dies a little each month._

"_Yes, well, we are now in a position whereby we need to explore other options."_

"_Options?" I really hate the sound of that._

"_Under most circumstances when a queen fails to provide an heir, the king must seek a mistress to produce one. You remember."_

_Ouch, catty. "I do."_

"_However in our case we know for a fact that it is not me at fault, it is you."_

_I say nothing._

"_Therefore I have spoken with my closest advisers and it has been recommended that we find a suitor for me."_

"_A suitor...wait, you mean a man to provide the...the means with which to create a child." I am incredulous._

"_Yes. I should lay with another man until a child is conceived. We will raise the child as our own and none shall know of the child's true parentage besides us two, and my advisor."_

"_And the father. Surely?"_

"_Well...in order to ensure total assurance that the child's true father should never reveal himself, I will arrange for him to be removed once it is confirmed that I am expecting."_

_Wait... "I know your language Anora." I say angrily. "When you say removed you in fact mean assassinated. I refuse to that—no man should be used in such a way. How you could you do that to the father of your bastard child?"_

"_It is what is necessary to achieve peace for our country. Can you imagine the damage should this secret be revealed? The country would be torn apart by it."_

_I stop and stare at her. "When did you get to be so cold?" I ask._

_She does not reply. She merely fixes me with a detached stare and then we reach the banquet hall and plaster fake smiles upon our faces. _

He sat upon his throne, with his shoulders slumped and his mind wandering. Find a suitor for Anora to produce a child. Not one of Theirin blood, not his own kin. Some bastard child with absolutely no right to the throne yet who would one day rule Ferelden. The Theirin line would end with him, yet it had been so important to set him upon the throne due to his blood. The irony tasted like acid. He sighed heavily.

His eyes strayed to the large doors through which had arrived the nobles, the Teryns, the Banns of Ferelden. A selective of mages were mingling throughout the hall—he spied First Enchanter Wynne and gave a small wave. He wondered when Saóirsè would be arriving. If nothing else she would give him cause to ignore the bombshell dropped by Anora if only for one night.

As if by thinking of her he had summoned her, she appeared in the doorway. The announcer clearly did not recognise her and turned to ask his assistant, but when he turned back she had already entered the hall, flanked by Leliana.

She simply stole his breath away.

Saóirsè was dressed far more simply than the noblewomen massing around the hall. She wore a long gown of ivory, decorated with embroided vines and leaves that crept down from her bodice and spread out over the skirt. The pale colour was offset perfectly against her golden dress was an uncomplicated cut which cinched in her petite waist and the sleeves fluted out at her elbows. Her hair, her gorgeous unruly wild curls had been tamed for once, most likely by Leliana. It was pulled back from her face and wrapped into a chignon with a few loose curls dangling by her face. She wore a tiny amount of makeup but whatever had been applied seemed to exaggerate her big green eyes and Alistair found himself drawn to them. She nervously scanned the hall, perhaps looking for him. Then she gazed up to the dais that held the thrones and found him. They're eyes connected and it felt as if they had run smashing into one another. Alistair felt almost winded by the sight of her. It was quite a difference from the way he remembered her: Dragon Scale armour, blades in hand, blood spattered on her skin, hair a wild halo around her head, a devil-may-care grin on her face. In the midst of battle she was daring and gorgeous. At this time she was something much more exquisite. He might have described her as delicate had he not seen her take down an ogre all by herself before.

Without a thought to formality, or any thought at all in fact, Alistair leapt from the dais and bounded over to Saóirsè.

He was headed right for her. Saóirsè felt for Leliana's calming presence but the Orlesian had moved away to mingle, no doubt not coincidentally. He was dressed in gold and wore a tightly fitting crown, but oh his eyes. They were alive and full of joy at the sight of her. She couldn't help but smile as he gleefully made his way towards her, but she held her ground. She would remember who he was beneath the childlike smiles and boyish humour and stand fast.

_Makers breath, she's beautiful...I am a foolish man..._

He reached her and stopped.

"Hullo." He offered weakly.

"Well met, your majesty." Saóirsè said inclining her head in a show of deference.

"Hey, no, don't do that." Alistair said, his automatic reaction leading him to reach out his hand, but just at the last second he stopped himself from touching her arm. "If I'm not having Leliana refer to me by a title, I certainly can't expect you to."

"As you wish." She said sweetly. Alistair swallowed. This was not going at all how he had pictured it and he didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"You look...lovely." _Lovely? _

"Thank you." Saóirsè replied, blushing a little bit. "Makes a change, eh?"

"Yes," Alistair smiled. "I expect this is largely due to Leliana's styling? In which case I would have thought you would have been taller...wearing some sort of ridiculously high shoes?"

Saóirsè gave him a guilty look then barely lifted the hem of her dress revealing that beneath the fine gown she was wearing her old, worn leather boots. Alistair laughed loudly and she couldn't help but smile.

"So, the Alienage, eh?" he said breezily. She looked at him expectantly. "You think you can find a new recruit there?"

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't?" her eyes narrowed.

"No, no," Alistair waved his hands. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm a big fan of elves...I...wait..." he sighed at his stupidity, but as he ran his hands over his face he caught the smallest smile playing at the corners of Saóirsès mouth. "Yes, I'm still my utterly affable self, still quite the wordsmith. I meant I am proud to say that I have instated policies to safeguard the elves freedoms and protect them from persecution."

"So I heard. I'm glad." She said, genuine warmth coming through in her words. "I...er, I hope we're not too late? We were settling into our quarters."

"No, of course." Alistair said. "You're fine. I understand that you probably had a lot to bring over."

"Yes, you could say that." Saóirsè said, biting her lip. She couldn't help but feel that she ought to bring up Catriona—he did know about her after all—but something held her back. For all her insistence to Leliana that she wanted to keep her parentage a secret, now that she was faced with the prospect of denying her daughter she found she did not relish the idea. While she was deliberating, Alistair ploughed forward and mentioned Cat himself.

"I met Catriona today." He said blithely. "I bumped into her in the district and returned her to Leliana."

"Mmm." Saóirsè said noncommittally.

"She's very sweet." He said not wanting to let the conversation die awkwardly. "How old is she?"

"She...she's three years old." She replied, studying her feet very intently.

"Wow, three." Alistair said. "I guess she would have been born while you and Leliana were in Orlais?"

"Yes, she was." Saóirsè said. "Only a few months after your wedding. Congratulations by the way."

"Oh, yes, thank you." Alistair said, feeling a little flustered. He wanted nothing more than to get off the topic of him and his farcical marriage and back to Saóirsè. "So, was it a shock?"

"Your wedding?" Saóirsè asked confused. _That's a bit personal._

"No, I meant Leliana having a baby." Alistair hurried to correct.

"Oh, um, it was a little..." Saóirsè said. _Please stop bringing her up..._ "So, how's Anora?"

Alistair grimaced before he could stop himself. Something about speaking with Saóirsè made him less cautious about hiding his true feelings. Naturally she picked up on it.

"Ah, that good?" Saóirsè said.

Alistair made a small attempt to brush off his negative reaction, but then gave up. What was the point? Saóirsè knew him better than anyone after all.

"Listen," she said. "I want to go and check on Cat, so can I catch up with you later?" He nodded and let her turn around. He watched her walk away then as she passed through the door and out of sight a compulsion came over him and before he knew what he was doing he found himself rushing to catch up with her.

"Saóirsè!" he called. She stopped and turned. "I'm sorry, but do you mind if I walk with you? I could use a break from the festivities and I'd like to speak some more with you if you're willing?"

Saóirsè was frozen. She wanted very much to refuse him but could not form the words. She nodded quickly. "Of course."

They walked slowly up the corridor heading for the Warden Commanders quarters, both feeling a mix of unease and delight at the partnership.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Saóirsès feet felt heavy as she dragged them further towards her daughter's bedroom. She missed her child and resented the feast that impeded on her time with Cat, but she was being accompanied by the very last person she wanted to see with Catriona. Her chest felt tight and her breathing shallow. _Oh, Andraste, give me courage... _Saóirsè gave a fleeting thought to Leliana who was the influence driving her to pray to Andraste, as if She would take the time to help Saóirsè with a problem of her own making. Then she flinched at her unspoken words; Cat was neither a problem nor a mistake, so why would she think that. Catriona was the light of her life, the beauty and joy of the world encapsulated within that cheeky little personality. She never regretted her existence...it was purely that things surrounding her were complicated and Saóirsè so longed for a life free from complications. Alistair was talking, but his voice was just noise devoid of words in her ear. He was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing around her ears and she swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to her throat. Her lips were chapped and her hands shook. She could hear her heart beating wildly against her rib cage.

They reached the door and Alistair stepped aside, giving her a moment to check on her little girl. Saóirsè tried to smile, failed so slipped inside the room where the air was a little easier to breathe.

Her daughter was fast asleep looking tiny on Saóirsès huge bed. Cat had thrown the covers off in her sleep so Saóirsè went to her and tucked her back in again. The bed was so vast that she had to climb on the bed to reach her child and pull over her covers. Cats thumb was outstretched by her mouth which was slightly open; clearly she had fallen asleep sucking it and had moved as she lost consciousness. Saóirsès frantic heartbeat was stilled by the sight of her peacefully sleeping baby girl. She smiled warmly and brushed her strawberry blonde curls off her face. She looked so tiny in sleep. Saóirsè hummed a low tune as she stroked the soft skin of her baby's face.

Alistair waited patiently outside, but after a few minutes he tentatively put his hand to the slightly ajar door and pushed gently. He peered around the door checking to see if Saóirsè was ready to speak with him. He opened his mouth to speak but the sight he was met with caught his breath in his throat. The tender way Saóirsè was gazing down at the sleeping girl told him everything. A noise of alarm and surprise erupted from his mouth and Saóirsès head snapped up in shock. He ducked out of the room, but she sped silently across the room and hauled him back inside. With a glance at Catriona, she pulled him into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind her. Alistair was too shocked to put up a fight, and once they were safely ensconced in the room he sank to sit on the bath.

Saóirsè regarded him fearfully. Finally he raised his head to her and fixed blank eyes on hers.

"She is yours." He said in a ragged voice.

"Yes." Saóirsè stood with her back to the door, her arms behind her back still holding the handle. Her face was full of concern.

"Why didn't you say?" Alistair said.

"I don't like people to know." Saóirsè whispered. "I worry that she could be in danger if people knew."

Alistair considered this as he turned his eyes to the floor. He had to admit that made sense. There were still plenty of enemies of the Wardens about, especially those who remained loyal to Loghain, even after his death.

"You said she was three?" Alistair asked. Saóirsè tensed. She knew what was coming. "Born a few months after my wedding?"

"Yes, in July."

"So you were expecting her when the Blight ended."

"Yes, although I didn't know."

"Who is her father?"

Saóirsè looked away. The way he posed the question did not sound suspicious, merely curious, yet she looked away before she could stop herself. Alistairs jaw clenched.

"Who is her father?" He repeated more forcefully.

"No-one!" Saóirsè said turning back. "I mean, not no-one, but no-one important!"

"So it's someone I know, then?" Alistair deduced getting to his feet. He strode over to her and towered above her for the first time in their lives. "And you don't want me to know so it's not someone I'd approve of, is it?" Saóirsè shook under his fierce stare. "Is it Zevran?" he spat. "He was around after the Blight ended and he always showed how interested he was in you. And he's certainly not someone I would approve of."

Saóirsè said nothing.

"Is that it?" Alistair growled. "Did you do it to spite me? After I ended things with you, you turned to him to get back at me?"

Now she rounded on him. "Don't you _**dare**_ speak to me like that. How can you be so arrogant?"

"You were the one who said I broke your heart and you were certainly angry enough to want to hurt me. You kept me out of the final battle after all."

"First, you didn't break my heart. When I looked back on it I realised all that you did was bruise a little of my pride and lust. That's all." This was a fabrication she knew, but it helped soften the blow if she pretended it was true. "Secondly, I kept you from the battle because you were king, you fool. You were too important to Fereldens future to risk losing. And finally, you have no right to harass me like this."

"Why won't you just admit it then?" Alistair asked angrily. "If you're so proud of your actions then admit to me what you did!"

They were both surprised when Saóirsè slapped his face, but she recovered first.

"I have done nothing to be ashamed of and you cannot make me feel badly about her." She said in a level tone.

"Then why do I feel ashamed of you?" Alistair asked in a dangerously low voice.

"Because you are a sanctimonious son of a bitch." She replied in an equally warning tone.

The Wardens glared at each other for a few moments. Saóirsè was the one to break the stare, turning to her feet again. Alistair pounced.

"So you are ashamed." He spat. "You wouldn't have looked away otherwise."

When she looked up he was shocked to see such sorrow on her face. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"I am ashamed of my actions since her birth, not before." She admitted. Alistair immediately softened and went to her with the intention of holding her, but she held up her hands when he reached her. He did not back away, but he respected her as far as not touching her.

"Tell me." He implored softly. "Maybe I can help."

Saóirsè turned and opened the door to gaze over at her daughter. "Oh Alistair. Can you not see it?"

He frowned, confused by her words. He followed her gaze to the little girl asleep in the bed. "See what?"

"See the resemblance."

"I don't understand." Alistair shook his head unable to understand. Saóirsè turned back to him and finally she touched him on his hand.

"She has my eyes and my nose. My skin tone. My ears. She is tall for her age for an elf. She gets her height from her father."

"She's half human?" Alistair said bewildered. "I didn't know—"

"Neither did I." Saóirsè said. "It is unheard of for elves and humans to procreate. Yet there she is."

Alistair looked again at the sleeping child.

"She has your hair." Saóirsè said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

Alistair sucked in his breath and fell backwards away from the doorway. Saóirsè kept hold of his hand and was pulled along with him. He couldn't breathe, he was panicking. She touched her free hand to his chest and looked up into his face which seemed to steady him.

"Maker..."

"Alistair, I'm sorry." Saóirsè said quickly. "I was trying to protect her."

"From me?" Alistair's eyes filled. "I'm her father?"

"Yes." The word came out with a sob. Alistair's legs gave out and they both found themselves on their knees on the floor. Alistair could hardly see through tears and Saóirsè was crying.

"Why?" was the only word Alistair could force out.

"I was scared." She explained hurriedly. "I was alone and pregnant and didn't know what to do. I knew she was yours—there's never been anyone else—but you said it would be a miracle for two Wardens to conceive and yet there I was expecting your baby. I was in denial up until she was born and then I was in Orlais with Leliana and didn't know if I could bear to return. You'd married Anora before I knew Cat was on the way and I didn't think you would want me to come back to Ferelden and just tell you 'oh by the way you have a daughter'." Saóirsè wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Besides, you left me because I would make an unsuitable queen. Knowing we could never marry would make my baby the bastard heir to the throne, just like you were."

Alistair looked up and wiped his own tears.

"I heard you," Saóirsè went on, "when Morrigan propositioned you before the battle. Trying to get you to overrule me to go into battle so that she could have an Old God baby. The only reason you said no was because you were afraid that her child would one day return and attempt to claim the throne. You were so worried about that. I was afraid for Cat if you knew about her."

"I would _**never**_ have hurt her." Alistair said harshly.

"You maybe." Saóirsè said. "But Anora? She would have had you executed had you not taken the throne. I would not put anything past her."

Alistair sat back against the wall. Saóirsè knelt before him, her fingers still entwined in his.

"I don't quite know how to process this all." He said flatly.

"I'm sorry." Saóirsè said. "I never meant for this to happen."

"Which bit?"

"Any of it." She said. "I never thought it was possible for a child like Cat to exist. I was so terrified that someone would take her away from me."

"Why?"

"Because she's an heir. Because she's half elf half human. Because she's the child of two Grey Wardens." Saóirsès lip wobbled. "Because I'm not a very good mother."

"Hey, no, I don't believe that." Alistair said, some warmth creeping into his voice as he pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm never there because I'm too busy searching for new Wardens. We travel on the road all the time. I struggle to find the time to see her."

"Oh Saóirsè..." he murmured into her hair. "I wish I could have been there with you."

"I wish...I wish..." she broke into new sobs as she turned her face into his chest. "I wish we were a family."

Alistair squeezed his eyes shut and a few more tears leaked out. "I'm so sorry."

Saóirsè couldn't stop herself. He had chipped away at her wall and it was crumbling down around her. "I never stopped loving you. When Catriona was born I cried and cried because you weren't there and I wanted you to see your daughter. I wanted you to watch her grow up and not worry that one day she would steal your throne. I don't want that, I want us all to be happy. I want to protect Cat."

"Hey, Saóirsè," he gently lifted her chin so that they were eye to eye. "I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to protect her. Forever."

Saóirsè gave a weak smile and Alistair felt a jolt in his belly. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. She stiffened at first, but then melted into the kiss. Her lips were soft and tasted of salty tears. He pulled her close and kissed her fiercely as if by doing that he could repair all the tragedies in her life. He poured his regret into the kiss and held her so tightly. All he wanted to do was to look after her.

"I love you." He murmured against her mouth, and then rested his forehead against hers. "I have regretted leaving you every single day of my life."

"Mamae?" they both looked up to the small, sleepy voice coming from the doorway. Cat stood there in her pale blue nightdress and rubbed her eyes. Saóirsè quickly detached from Alistairs embrace and stood up straightening her gown and went over to her daughter.

"Hey, baby, did we wake you?" Saóirsè said soothingly. "I'm sorry. Let's take you back to bed." Saóirsè took Catriona's hand and started to lead her back to the bedroom.

"I know you." Cat said pointing at Alistair, who was rising to his feet. "You're the man from the street."

Saóirsè glanced at Alistair, who was frozen. "Come on Cat."

"Um, yes, that's right." Alistair said quickly and gave a shaky smile. "Alistair, remember?"

"Hello." Cat said. "Were you talking with mamae?"

"Yes." Alistair said. "We were talking."

Catriona allowed herself to be taken back to bed and Saóirsè lay beside her on the bed after tucking her in. Alistair walked slowly into the room and sat down on a chair near the bed. It didn't take long before Cat had dropped back off to sleep, for the first time being watched by both of her parents.

"What are we going to do?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the delay (not that I have a million people waiting for an update of course!) but crazy stuffs been going on at home. It's a short chapter this time because my space key has broken on my laptop so it's a pain in the arse to type at the moment. Still, I hope this is an enjoyable chapter! As ever thanks so much for the reviews—love them! _

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Chapter Six

Anora Theirin hated to be called away from the chance to schmooze with the elite classes of Ferelden, but she was assured that it would be worth missing it for a few minutes. The elven serving boy was one of Anoras most loyal spies, largely due to the fact the she used his obvious attraction to her to her advantage. Now he stood before her in the small storage room with a barely contained smug smile on his face.

"Your majesty," he said, bowing before her. "I have stumbled upon some great news, which I must impart upon you at once."

"Go on then Royce." Anora waved him on lazily.

"Well, I noticed that your husband, the king, leaving the banquet in pursuit of the Grey Warden Commander."

"Yes?"Anora prompted with a dangerously low tone.

"He followed her to his room and went inside. I snuck into the empty room next door and listened as hard as I could."

"What were they doing?"Anora asked.

"At first I couldn't hear," Royce said excitement creeping into his voice. "But then I could hear sounds of arguing—raised voices, even crying."

"Did you hear what they were arguing about?" Anora asked, her curiosity seriously piqued.

"Yes," Royce drew himself up to deliver the news. "It transpires that the Grey Warden has a child. A child she hid from the king."

"And why would she do that?" Anora asked, her mouth dry.

"The child's father is your husband, majesty."Royce delivered his crucial bit of news with a sneer.

Anoras face blanched and she felt as though the bottom had fallen out of her world. Ever the lady however, she held fast and did not allow even the merest slip in front of the elven servant. Royce waited eagerly for response to his news; a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek a hopeful prospect to him. She did neither, rather she fixed him with a cool smile and clasped her hands in front of her.

"Well done, Royce." She said evenly. "And how old is this child?"

"I do not know majesty." Royce said, his smug look faltering.

"I would be interested in knowing this." Anora said pointedly.

"Then I shall seek to discover it." Royce said quickly, bowing out of the room.

Once she was alone, Anora staggered back against the wall and slid slowly towards the dusty floor. A child. Alistair Theirin had produced an heir to the throne without even knowing. Anora was the failure to procreate, not her darkspawn tainted husband. The shame of it—her father would be rolling in his grave for sure. Her _one_ royal obligation, the _one_ thing that had ended her stay in the tower and she had failed. Whereas the other Grey Warden, the Dalish born had conceived and born a child without even trying. Not for the first time did Anora regret not having spent more effort trying to start a family with Cailan instead of enjoying the fact that he was always off playing war leaving her to rule to country.

This was dreadful news.

Suddenly Anora felt nauseas. She sprang to her feet and fled the storeroom. She was too far from her bedchamber, but the guest rooms were much closer and they would be empty thanks to the banquet. She burst through the first door and hurried to the bathroom, where she violently expelled the contents of her stomach.

***

"I suppose we ought to think about returning to the banquet." Alistair said in a hushed voice. Saóirsè didn't look up from her daughters face. He watched her watching the..._his_...child. His heart danced at the sight; his beloved tending so adoringly to the child they had created together. Everything he had ever wanted was right within his reach. And yet...and yet there was a wall between the happiness he could see and him touching it. It was as if he was watching them through a window.

"Saóirsè?" Alistair said trying to get her attention.

She finally tore her gaze from Catriona. "Yes, you're right." She stood up and smoothed her dress. "What would people think?" She gave him a wry look.

They fell into step as they left the room to head back for the banquet hall.

"You never answered my question." Alistair pointed out as they walked.

"What question?" Saóirsè asked.

"What are we going to do?" he said, asking the same question again.

"What is there to do?" Saóirsè asked. "Nothing's changed. I remain the head of the Wardens, you remain the king."

"And Cat?"

Saóirsè bristled at the sound of Alistair using her daughters nickname as though he had known her all his life and so earned that right. "I have no desire for my daughter to be an heir to the throne. I have no intention of telling her who her father is." Alistair stopped in shock.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, anger bubbling up inside him.

"I told you." Saóirsè said firmly. "As far as Cat knows her father died before she was born. I see no reason to tell her otherwise."

"And what about what I want?" he exploded. "You have kept me in the dark for years when you had no right to."

"Oh of course, you would have welcomed me with open arms had I come up to you after your royal wedding with my babe in tow." Saóirsè spat. "I didn't want to be loved for my daughter."

"That's ridiculous!" Alistair yelled in exasperation. "I have loved you for years without even knowing about Cat. Catriona has not changed that."

"But I'm more useful now, aren't I?"Saóirsè said, her eyes narrowing. "Now that I have born an heir to the throne, suddenly I'm not quite so useless."

"You were never useless."

"Yes I was!" Saóirsè couldn't believe that yet more tears were making themselves felt behind her eyes. She had thought she would have been all cried out this evening for sure. "I was of no use to you as soon as you took up your crown! Or do you not remember? Taking me aside and telling me: 'Thanks for the fun, but I need to get serious now about procreating and you're no good for that. Oh and you're Dalish, too, even worse!' Ring a bell?"

Alistair's cheeks flamed and he had the grace to look away, ashamed. "Of course I remember. I was a fool and I have regretted it ever since."

Saóirsè felt the fight drain out of her. "It doesn't matter. I don't care anymore. I just want to protect Cat."

"As do I."

Saóirsè shook her head sadly. "You can't. _You_ are part of what she needs protecting from. You tore out my heart, not to mention my self confidence and pride, because I was no good for Fereldens royalty. Cat is half-Dalish—you think the nobles will stand for that? She was born out of wedlock and you know exactly how appealing that made _you_ for the throne. I can't put her through all of that. I _won't_."

"But I want to be in her life." Alistair said quietly.

"You can't." Saóirsè said, apologetically. "Once my business is concluded I will be leaving with her and I won't be bringing her back to Denerim. _Ever_."

She turned and walked composedly back into the banquet hall leaving Alistair alone with his grief.

***

Anora watched the exchange between the Wardens and waited until Alistair was by himself before going to him. Every step she took felt heavy and laden with hurt. She was reminded of the day she was carted off to her prison in the tower, except that then she had still had her dignity. Today she felt naked before him. He turned as she came up behind him, not knowing until she opened her mouth what she was going to say.

"Anora." Alistair said. He peered into her face—it was drawn and tear stained. Her eyes were bright and her skin sallow. She looked feverish, but she smiled. The skin seemed too tight over her skull. "Are you well?"

"I'm pregnant."

Anora could not tell who was more shocked; she or he? He gaped at her while she scrambled for more words.

"I thought you said we had missed our chance this month?"Alistair asked in bewilderment.

"I made a mistake." She shrugged, feeling a little hysterical. "I am expecting."

"That's wonderful news," Alistair said automatically, the news not quite reaching his brain.

"It's everything we ever wanted." Anora agreed, her voice a much higher octave than usual.

"Well," Alistair said, touching his hand to her lower back. "Shall we re-enter the hall?"

"Yes, but can we please keep this news to ourselves?" Anora said quickly. "Just in case."

"Of course."

Anora let her husband lead her back into the hall, thoughts frantically whizzing around her brain. What in the name of Andraste was she going to do?


	7. Chapter 7

_I have to put a brief warning in here: sexual scene that's not very nice. There. Done. Warned!_

_To soften the blow I've thrown in a nice little Joss Whedon reference. Had to be done!_

Chapter Seven

_Two weeks later_

The search was over before it truly began. This was the thought that came to two separate women on the first evening in autumn. One had found a young Elven boy who displayed remarkable prowess with throwing knives and daggers and who had spindly fingers adept at thieving. The other found a disgraced nobleman whose bann had been stripped from him by his brother and who had fallen into alcoholism as a recreational past time. One spent the week observing the elf, offering words of advice and gently leading him into discussions about life as a Grey Warden. The other brought the bann into the castle on the pretence of getting him back on his feet, but spent every night in his chamber with him heaving on top of her in the hopes that a child might be created so that she could protect herself from her lies.

In the midst of this the man these women each held a part of struggled to find a way that he might keep both in his life and came up with nothing every time.

***

The elf was younger than Saóirsè, but he was the same height so when she addressed him she could look him square in the eye. It was very refreshing to do this when so many of the potential Wardens she spoke with were human and so much taller than she. His name was Mort and he was an orphan. He had been wary of Saóirsè at first, but he was gradually warming up to her. Saóirsè kept a firm policy that she would be up front and frank with any potential Warden so as not to bombard them with bad news as soon as they had joined. The death of Ser Jory at the hands of Duncan had permanently scarred her, and she had vowed never to lead a lamb to the slaughter in that way. So far this policy had been met with derision from the Orlesians who had taught her the Joining ritual, but not one of the freshly recruited Wardens had backed out from the Joining yet and only two had died from the ritual. After each death Saóirsè had taken to her bed and wept at the loss, surfacing only to return the body of one to his family; the other, it turned out, had been an apostate with no known family so Saóirsè had buried her herself accepting no assistance with digging her grave. The Wardens current count (excluding herself and Alistair) stood at four. One for every year since the Blight ended, she mused. She hoped Mort would be the fifth, but not before she had had the chance to explain exactly what being a Grey Warden entailed.

Mort sat before her in his home while Saóirsè went over everything, his face perfectly blank.

"It is not an easy path to follow," Saóirsè explained solemnly. "Although the title commands respect and sometimes adoration from civilians, the life is difficult. You are separated from your family and your old life; in a sense you are reborn as a Warden. The base in Ferelden is here in Denerim at Fort Drakon, so you at least can retain some links to your home here."

"This isn't much of a home." Mort interjected. "My family are dead and I have never truly felt content here. Moving to the Fort sounds more comforting to me than remaining here, although I would prefer to get out of Denerim as soon as possible."

"Well, that will be a definite likelihood." Saóirsè said. "The Joining ritual will take place at Fort Drakon, but I like to test my new recruits metal pretty soon after, so I'll want to send you out to see how you do. When I joined, we were only a few days from a battle down in Ostagar so there was little time to prepare. Myself and my two fellow recruits were sent into the Korkari Wilds to obtain some darkspawn blood and some old treaties."

"Darkspawn blood?" Mort asked.

"Yes," Saóirsè nodded. "Which brings me to my next point. The Joining involves you drinking a potion made of many ingredients, but the most important is darkspawn blood." Saóirsè leaned across the table towards Mort to impart this knowledge. "To become a Grey Warden means that you have to invite the taint into your body, where it remains forever. That is how we are able to sense darkspawn. It also means that the very process it takes to become a Grey Warden can kill you. In my Joining a man called Daveth was killed by drinking the potion. It doesn't always happen—obviously, after all I'm sat here talking to you—but it can. That's why I like to spend time really getting to know people I believe could make great Wardens. I don't put anyone forward I don't believe can beat the risks."

Mort regarded her with a passive face, but she caught the slight tic in his cheek. She could tell this was having an impact on him and she was glad. Nobody should take this choice lightly.

"Naturally there are drawbacks to having the taint inside you." Saóirsè went on. "Your life will be reduced. As I understand it most Wardens get a maximum of thirty years once they've gone through the Joining. Having children—" she choked on the word and had to take a few sips of water before continuing—"will be harder if not impossible. And the life you do have will be polluted with nightmares. I joined during a Blight so it was worse for me, or so I am told. The Wardens I have recruited since have told me that while they do suffer with the nightmares at first, they ease off quickly. This is helped, I believe, by the fact that we drove the darkspawn back below ground and they are mostly contained below Orzammer. Every so often bands of them breach the defences and the nightmares spike. That'll be one of your jobs—seeking them out when they get out. It would help if we had stronger links with Orzammer, but Harrowmont seems determined to keep the surface out of Orzammer." Saóirsè sighed as she thought of the man she had championed for the crown. She told herself that at the time they had a desperate need for a ruler purely so that he could give the order to send troops to aid in the fight against the arch demon and that he had been the lesser of two evils and that desperation had prevailed. Sadly the truth was that she had believed in this Lord and believed that he would be the right thing for Orzammers future and she had been wrong. Politics was far from her strong points. She pushed that thought away and dragged herself back into the present.

"If you decide to join and you survive the process you will be our first elf Warden, since me. Any questions?" she asked Mort. He shook his head so she stood up. "Take your time mulling it over. I will return in the morning for your decision."

"Wait!" he stood up and she stopped at the door. "I'm ready now, I want to do this."

Saóirsè gave a sad smile. "I will return in the morning."

She turned and slipped out of the house.

***

Eamon regarded Alistair for a long time as the king consulted the papers on his desk. There was something very different, almost distant about Alistair since that banquet a fortnight ago. Eamon couldn't put his finger on it. He hadn't spoken of anything that was bothering him, but it was there on his face. Alistair looked up and caught Eamon concentrating on him. "What is it?" he asked. "Something on my face?"

"No Alistair," Eamon said. "But there is noticeably something the matter with you. I just want you to know that I am here if you wish to talk about it."

Alistair blushed."There's nothing wrong." He mumbled unconvincingly.

"My lad," Eamon said, choosing to ignore the fact that the man was a king and an adult and deciding to appeal to the boy within him. "I have known you your whole life and you never could lie to me. Why don't you tell me what the matter is."

Alistair sighed. "Anora's pregnant."

Eamon was surprised having expected some terrible news. "But that's wonderful! It's about time, too, I must say. How far along is she?"

Alistair shrugged. "I don't know. Early, I think. She told me at the banquet, but asked me to keep it quiet."

"That makes sense." Eamon nodded sagely. "When we were expecting Connor, Isolde was terrified about revealing the news until half way through her pregnancy. Given the time it has taken for the two of you to conceive, it stands to reason that you should be extra cautious." Eamon clapped his hand on Alistairs back. "Congratulations, my boy! Finally an heir!"

Alistair sighed again. Eamon frowned.

"I sense you are not telling me everything."

Alistair looked up. "Please do not tell anyone what I am about to confide in you."Eamon nodded his face grave. Alistair grimaced as he formed the words in his mouth. "That night I also found out that I already have a child." The words sounded strange when he said them aloud.

"What?" Eamons shock was evident in his tone of voice. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

"But...how?" The look of horror on Eamons face was enough to stop Alistair from joking about the facts of life and how babies were made. Instead he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.

"The child was conceived before I married Anora." He explained. "I did not know of her existence until a couple of weeks ago. Her mother wants me to have nothing to do with her and promises my daughter will not be raised as a bastard heir to the throne."

"How can you trust the word of a woman who hid your child from you?" Eamon said angrily. "Who is this woman anyway? Not a woman of noble blood I would guess?"

Alistair felt himself seethe on behalf of Saóirsè, even as he acknowledged that Eamon had a very good point and Saóirsè had kept Catriona from him for all these years. "I think we can trust her word." He looked away from Eamons fierce gaze. "It's Saóirsè."

Eamon said nothing for a long moment and Alistair knew he was wrestling with his emotional and practical sides. Eamon held a personal debt to Saóirsè for saving his son from the demon that had inhabited him when he was younger, and not only that but she had risked an awful lot in spite of the fact that Eamons wife Isolde had been willing to sacrifice her life for her sons. She had also saved his own life, finding an ancient relic to save him from the poison that ate away at him. That was of course in addition to the fact that it was Saóirsè and not he who had lead the ragtag bunch of rebels across Ferelden gathering armies to lead against the Blight. She was a big damn hero and it was difficult to find a bad word to say against her, even in the face of this new information.

Finally Eamon spoke, his logical side winning as ever over his heart. "I believe you when we say we can trust her. It was she, after all, who lobbied so hard for you to become king so I do not think we need worry about an impending civil war. Again." Eamon peered over at Alistair who was nodding along glumly. "The news of yours and Anoras child is great and secures Fereldens throne for you after your death. However, things—as we know all too well—do not always go as planned. You, after all, never expected to have to take up the throne. Cailan inherited it from Maric and should have had a child with Anora to secure his throne. He did not so it fell to you." Eamons eyes softened as he took in Alistairs pained expression. "Sadly if things do not go to plan with this child there may come a day when we look to your daughter for help. You must talk to Saóirsè and make her see sense."

"Oh yeah, that'll be easy."

***

Anora squeezed her eyes shut as Vernon shuddered above her and thrust himself further inside her. Hot sweat dripped from his neck onto her face and she turned away. Her hands were on his sides and they too were slippery with sweat. Vernon was overweight and had quite the beer gut cultivated from his years of drinking. His face was as red as a tomato and he gasped for breath as his orgasm shot what felt like gallons of his seed into her. He finished his climax and collapsed on top of her. She suppressed her revulsion, but found herself thinking longingly of Alistair—even he would have been preferable to this behemoth lying on her. She was soaked with his perspiration and the bed sheets were saturated with it. She couldn't help but think that she would have to instruct the maids to change his bedding more often than they were already doing—before they had copulated the sheets had been stiff and reeked of salt. He'd grinned at her and told her that on the nights they weren't together he was thinking of her. He'd rubbed his crotch as he spoke and she had felt something break inside. This was what she'd been reduced to: sleeping with, no, _fucking_ some alcoholic ex-bann who was older than her father would have been were he still alive, just so that she could pray to become pregnant by him so her unloving husband would not learn of her deception. She couldn't compete with a woman who had already produced an heir, even if the child were a bastard heir at that.

Anora made to slide out from under the sweaty mass crushing her, but he seemed to snap back to life again and he bent down to kiss her. She forced herself to accept his kiss and to kiss back, before she broke away and gave a shaky smile. "My lord, I must return to my other duties."

"Are you sure?" Vernon murmured, tracing the line of her neck down to her breasts with his finger. He rubbed his thumb over her pale nipple and she was ashamed when it became hard under his touch. She told herself it was merely her body responding, not her mind or heart. "If you give me a minute I'm sure I could get myself up and running again, if you catch my drift." He lowered his head to her breast and took the whole thing into his mouth, running his tongue over her nipple. She closed her eyes again and a tear escaped dribbling down into her ear.

"My lord, please," she said trying to be forceful, but feeling very vulnerable trapped naked under him. "I really must protest."

He looked up, a line of spittle linking his lower lip and her nipple. "Surely your chances of getting up the duff are increased the more we fornicate? I thought that was what you wanted."

"I do," she said, "but I think we have done all that we can today."He had been shy and quiet when she had proposed this allegiance of sorts, but after a few days he had grown greedy and mean. She felt that she had held the power on the first, second and third days, but he had grasped it on the fourth. Anora felt a little like she had walked into a trap, yet she knew that it had been her own doing.

Suddenly, with speed that she would never have imagined he possessed, he was on his knees on the bed and had grabbed her ankles. Vernon hauled them up so that they were suspended high above her at a right angle to her body. "There ya go," he said. "This'll help." He leered, reaching down to cup her bottom with one hand. "And I get to feel you up in the meantime!"

Anora pulled back her legs and he let her go. She quickly got off the bed and gathered up her dress, slipping it on haphazardly, not bothering with her undergarments. "My lord, I thank you for your continued help and discretion, but I have duties to attend to." Her hair was flat on one side of her head and sticking out in strange directions on the other, and she sought to smooth it down, dropping her smalls in the process. She sank to her knees and scrambled to recover every items. Where were her knickers?

"Looking for these?" Vernon grinned from his position lounging on the bed. He held her knickers in his hand and pressed them to his face. "Mmm smells like you."

Anora felt bile rise in her throat so she grabbed what she could and dashed out of the room. She forced herself to walk steadily with her head held high until she rounded the corner away from his room. Then she broke into a run with tears in her eyes and his scent between her legs.


	8. Chapter 8

_Ok, one more horrible sex scene, but that's it...I think. The plots kind of in control of itself so I can't really make any promises! _

Chapter Eight

_The arch demons face was twisted into a mask of seething anger and vitriol. Saóirsè and Alistair stood beneath it, both awash with blood. They looked like something other than mortal and their fellow fighters hesitated to approach them, drawing back. The arch demons eyes were aflame with defiance and as it roared they heard it in their minds: __**Strike me down if you dare! **__They both stepped forward and in that moment they heard the sound of a man shouting. They turned and saw Riordan staggering towards them, half carried by Sten. "Let me!" he shouted, unable to speak any more. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his eyes rolled in their sockets. He had fallen from such a great height, yet he was hanging onto life by a thread. Although the bloodlust was pumping through their veins, both Wardens deferred to in lieu of seniority and allowed Riordan to fulfil the promise he had made. He shrugged off Sten and crawled towards the arch demon who regarded him with hate filled eyes, unable to move its head due to a broken neck. Riordan threw all the weight he had behind his blow and sank his sword into the skull of the demon. Blinding white light shot heavenwards and then exploded out, knocking aside all who stood nearby. It seemed to last forever but of course it came to an end. When it did there was silence but for a strange noise coming from below the Fort. It took the shattered fighters a few moments before they recognised it as cheering. _

_The Blight was over._

_Saóirsè and Alistair stood and drank in each other's expressions of joy and relief. They reached for one another and clasped their arms around the other, their lips meeting as they kissed and kissed. _

_Suddenly they broke apart. They were no longer atop Fort Drakon. They were somewhere dark and dank and frightening. Looking around they could see that they were in the Deep Roads and as they turned they saw a horde of darkspawn rushing towards them. They yelled as one and threw up their hands; they were nude before them denied their armour and weapons. The leader, a massive Hurlock, ran at them wielding a nicked blade. He was flanked by an ogre, and as he stood above the Wardens and raised his foot to stamp on them, they both saw the bloodied little girl crushed in his enormous hands and they screamed._

***

The kitchen was dark and silent but for the sound of glass clinking together. Vernon Telford, disgraced ex-bann, rifled through the bottles before coming to the conclusion that they were all empty. He belched loudly and struggled to his feet. His sight was hazy and he stumbled as he left the kitchen.

***

In separate rooms both Alistair and Saóirsè awoke with a cry, bathed in cold sweat and shivering. Saóirsè gasped at fact that she was alone in her room and was frantic for a moment until she remembered that Catriona had decided she wanted to sleep in Leliana's room that night. At that moment Saóirsè was glad of her daughters' choice—she would surely have terrified her by waking up so abruptly. She shivered in spite of the fire that was still merrily crackling away and slipped out of the bed to change her night shirt as it was sticking to her skin. Her hair was wilder than ever and framed her flushed face. She started as she heard the door handle turn and the creak as the door swung open, whirling to face the intruder.

"Did you have it, too?" Alistair said as he walked into the room, the shock of the nightmare overwhelming his usual gentleman's graces. "The nightmare?"

Saóirsè nodded, unable to speak for the time being. He went to her and stopped in front of her. She was holding a fresh night shirt and she had started to unbutton the damp shirt. He saw now how it was clinging to her body; only three buttons keeping the material together; a slash of skin down to her naval; the swell of her breasts evident beneath the fabric; the hem just skimming her bottom revealing golden thighs. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes wide and she was breathing just a little too quickly. Alistair swallowed. _Maker I should not have come here... _but he made no move to leave. He felt his heart quicken the pace and he found his throat was dry. He reached out his hand and touched a finger to the area of skin where her collar bones met. He felt her pulse jump at his touch. She dropped her arms to her sides and allowed the fresh shirt to slither out between her fingers. She gazed up at the man in front of her, his chest bare and covered in an intricate silver pattern of scars. Her lips were parted and looked oh so moist. Alistair used his other hand to cup her chin and he longingly stared into her face. His eyes were dark as she looked into them.

"Saóirsè," he murmured so softly, but so full of desire. She sighed, drinking in his scent and closed her eyes in delight at the memory of him. And then he was no longer a memory: he kissed her boldly and fiercely and she felt her knees weaken at the sensation.

Alistair picked her up and wrapped her around him, kissing her hungrily and he groaned when she responded with equal desire and she clung to him with her legs. He turned and they fell together onto the bed, he below, she sat astride him, neither lessening their hold on the other on impact with the mattress.

"Saóirsè," he said again, when he broke the kiss. "Saóirsè, Saóirsè..."

"We...we shouldn't," Saóirsè said, although she made no effort to stop kissing his neck.

"If we don't I will die right here." Alistair said, making a guttural noise as she slipped down his body to kiss his stomach. "Oh Saóirsè!"

She kissed him all along his abdomen, following the lines of his muscles as a guide. Her legs were either side of his and she felt his arousal pressing into the soft dome of her belly, a belly which still bore the memory of her daughter. He had his head thrown back tipping over the edge of the bed and he was gripping the sheets with his hands.

She started to run light fingers up and down his arms, enjoying the feeling of his taut tendons, which made his arms feel rock hard. She looked up at him from her position kneeling over his legs and he looked back. Then he grabbed her and pulled her to him, rolling her at the same time so that she was on her back and he above her, one leg hooked between hers. She smiled at him and he buried his face in her neck alternately kissing and whispering her name.

"Alistair..." she said happily. The she gasped as she suddenly felt his fingers between her legs. "Oh!" It was his turn to smile as he watched her writhe and gasp at his touch.

"Tell me you want me," Alistair murmured into her ear.

"I want you," she said breathlessly.

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you." She leant up towards him and pressed her lips to his, opening her mouth to allow his tongue access. She could feel herself swelling towards a climax, but she wanted to wait, to savour him. She pushed his hand away and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer and they lost themselves in dizzying kisses for a while.

He dropped his hand to her thigh and slowly stroked her up towards the shirt. "This needs to come off, I think..." he said in a deliciously low tone. She sighed happily as she felt his fingers work the three buttons hiding her from him. He spread the shirt open and took in her body, slightly changed since the last time he saw her naked. The time their child was conceived. His eyes focussed on her lower abdomen; while her body was mostly muscle and sinew, her stomach showed a slight puckering of skin and small zigzags of faded marks surrounding her belly button. He traced the thin lines around her naval and then laid his hand over her belly, trying to imagine what she would have looked like with a pregnant tummy. Alistair smiled sadly at thought that he had missed how beautiful she must have looked. Then he turned to look at her. She had a hesitant look on her face as if she were worried what he would think of the changes to her body.

"You are so beautiful," he said leaning down for a kiss. He slid his palm over the jutting bone of her hip. "What's this?"

She followed his gaze down to the inked picture that snaked its way over her hip and down her thigh. "Oh, nothing." She muttered as he looked closer.

"A rose." He said.

She sighed. "The rose you gave me, the Lothering rose, was beginning to wilt and it didn't do so well tucked into my armour, so I had a copy tattooed onto my hip. I had it done right before the Landsmeet...it was meant to be a surprise..."

"But I ruined it." Alistair finished for her. He bent to kiss it and whispered against her skin: "It's perfect."

"It's stretched a bit." Saóirsè corrected wryly. Alistair looked up at her.

"It's perfect." He repeated firmly. "_You're_ perfect. _I_ am a stupid man who forgot for one single moment and ruined his life." The kiss he bestowed on her was filled with longing and regret, and she happily accepted it. She took away his hurt and offered her own kiss of forgiveness and resolve and he felt all the sorrow of the past four years drift away like tendrils of smoke on the wind.

She held him tightly as he lightly brushed her nipple with his hand and she moaned. Then she spun him over onto his back and in one movement had succeeded in loosening his cotton trousers enough so that she could pull them off. They pooled on the edge of the bed, but neither paid any heed. Saóirsè shrugged off the shirt so that both were naked. Alistair couldn't help but marvel at the way her skin looked by the light of the fire. They gazed at each other, enjoying the sight of the other naked and resplendent, before Saóirsè climbed on top of Alistair and eased him inside her. She had expected some pain, but it was remarkably easy. It was as if she had been waiting for him since they parted, and she supposed that was not so far from the truth. He filled her perfectly and she began to rock her hips. Alistair groaned again and slid his hands up her legs and waist. Her hair was cascading down her back and her eyes were fixed on his. She began to pick up momentum and Alistair bit down on his lip. It felt so incredible to be inside her again, to feel her, to smell her. Maker, how he had missed her.

"I don't think I'll be long..." Alistair warned looking apologetic. Saóirsè grinned sexily.

"Good," she whispered. "Neither will I."

Alistair groaned and seized at her hips, pulling them towards him. She gasped at the sensation of him pushing even deeper into her and she reacted by speeding up the swaying of her body. Alistairs teeth were clenched as he tried to hold on a little longer, but when Saóirsè cried out and bucked on top of him and he felt her orgasm, his willpower fled and he climaxed, shouting out as he did.

When they finished, she made no move to get off him. Instead she lay on his chest and he held her tightly.

"I love you," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Please, don't leave me."

Saóirsè said nothing, unwilling to invite any difficult conversations into this moment. She closed her eyes. It would have to wait until the cold light of day.

***

Vernon grimaced. Apparently he did not know the way back to his quarters. _Damn place keeps changing, I swear_, he thought crossly. He could see dawn starting to break when he passed a window. He had reached a long corridor with only one door and an empty chair stood outside it. He decided this must be a way out as there was only the one door. Surely it led to another section of the palace? He headed straight for it. The door opened easily at his touch and he pushed inside.

***

The sleeping couple dozed lightly for a few hours before Alistair stirred. Saóirsè was beside him, tucked into his arms with a serene look on her face. He hated to wake her, but he could not bear the idea of sneaking from her bedroom and leaving her to wake up alone.

"Saóirsè," he said quietly, gently stroking her face. She opened her eyes sleepily and smiled.

"So that was not a dream after all," she said. "I had feared it was a figment of my imagination."

"No figment," Alistair said smiling, too. "It was real and it was wonderful. But I think I need to return to my quarters before the servants stir."

"I suppose." Saóirsè said with a pout that made him want to stay more than anything. She sat up and stretched while he watched. She looked at him over her shoulder. "Oi, stop leering at me, letch."

He laughed loudly. "I am the king; I'll have you know, so I can leer at any woman who takes my fancy."

"Is that right?" Saóirsè hiked an eyebrow, playing along. "What if the woman in question could take you down in a fight?"

"I don't know," he said, "it's been many years since we sparred. I reckon I'd surprise you."

Saóirsè stooped to pick her the fresh shirt from earlier. "You could only surprise me with how bad you'd gotten. I have been out in the lands hunting bandits and renegade darkspawn. You, your majesty, have been sat on a throne getting fat."

Alistair pretended to be hurt. "You wound me, woman!" he clutched at his heart.

She chucked him his trousers. "See? Won already."

Alistair laughed again as she retrieved a pair of loose trousers for herself, and dressed.

"Mind if I walk with you?" Saóirsè said. "I feel restless."

"Of course," Alistair said, and then frowned. "I feel we ought to talk—"

She silenced him with a sad look. "Please, not now. It's too magical to be spoiled with reality right now."

***

Anora was having a terrible dream. She was trapped somewhere and struggling to breathe. Something was crushing down on her and she couldn't move—

She woke up gasping for air, and clutching a hand to her throat. She could feel tears on her face and she threw off her covers for some breathing space. She sat on the edge of the bed shaking like a leaf.

She didn't hear the door when it clicked open, but she sensed the person standing in her doorway. She turned to look and felt her breath hitch.

"Majesty." Vernon sneered with a glint in his eye. Anora swiftly turned back to retrieve the dagger she kept under her pillow, but by the time she felt the cool metal under her fingers he was beside her. He grabbed her arm and yanked her around—the dagger flew out of her hands and skidded over to the door. "No—!"she started, but he clamped a hand over her mouth.

"I want what's owed to me," he hissed at her, spittle spraying her face and the overwhelming stench of booze making her shudder. Her eyes pleaded with him, but his were blank and he was beyond reason. He loosened his hold on her to reach his hand to his belt buckle, and Anora leapt at the chance to escape, pushing at him to get some space to move. She clambered onto the bed when he staggered back slightly, but he recovered quickly and she managed to tangle her foot in the sheets. He was on her in an instant, pressing her face down into the mattress. She fought for breath, but he was so much heavier and although she thrashed about beneath him, she heard the sound of his buckle unclasp. He threw her night gown over her back and she felt him tear at her undergarments. _No, Andraste, please __**no**__! _She clamped her legs together but he forced his hand between her and prised them apart, levering his bulk between them. She felt his bare skin and then his swollen penis pushing against her backside.

She shut her eyes tight as if that might make everything go away, but then she felt searing pain as he pushed inside her and she screamed into the bedclothes. Then he was slowly thrusting into her, taking it steadily at first so as not to graze the skin of his member, but gradually gathering momentum, a loud grunt accompanying each shove. Anora kept screaming, but he grabbed a fistful of her and forced her face into the eiderdown. She had to cease her noise so as to try to breathe but she could not stop the cries and whimpers as he rode her, building to a frenzy.

"No!" she yelled, sobbing as he cried out and began his orgasm, pulling himself out and rubbing himself up her back, pouring his seed all over her skin.

A sudden noise and the door burst open, banging against the wall. A man shouted her name, but she was dizzy with lack of air and couldn't move. The weight left her back and she felt hands on her. She yelled and tried to squirm away, but these hands were gentle as they scooped her up and she was held tightly, safely against her saviour. She opened her eyes and saw Alistair's horrified face looming above her. She turned her head and took in the sight of Saóirsè holding a kneeling Vernon before her, Anoras dagger at his throat. She sobbed and Saóirsè pressed the blade to his skin, causing a trickle of blood to dribble out.

"You will pay," spat Alistair in fury and Anora clung onto him. Guards suddenly came running into the room. Alistair turned to them and ordered them in full on king mode. "Take that man to the dungeon where he will await his execution in the morning. We must get a healer to tend to the queen."

"I am here, your majesty," First Enchanter Wynnes' voice preceded her entrance. "Let me help." Saóirsè nodded to her before hauling Vernon to his feet.

"Oh Wynne," Alistairs voice faltered as his old and trusted companion came to him to where he held Anora tightly. Saóirsè was just heading out of the door dragging Vernon with her when she heard Alistair say to Wynne: "The queen is pregnant..."


	9. Chapter 9

_For those of you paying attention, you might think I had made a mistake giving Alistair and Saóirsè a shared memory dream thing of the final battle when Alistair wasn't there, but it will all make sense..._

_I'm going to try to be nicer to Anora now...well, mostly. I think the poor girls suffered enough. She's pretty much where I needed her so hopefully I won't need to post anymore warnings!_

_And also I'm slightly obsessed with watching the Dragon Age: Awakening expansion trailer, hence the paraphrased quote showing up here..._

Chapter Nine

Leliana dressed Catriona in her outfit of choice: tan breeches that cut off below her knees and a green tunic completed by a pair of her favourite soft leather boots. It was a source of constant exasperation to her that the girl persisted in dressing like her mum, which meant dressing like a boy. At least the girl was happy to have her long hair styled by Leliana. She plaited the wild strawberry blonde curls into two thick braids either side of her head, entwining green ribbons throughout and finishing them with bows.

"There," Leliana said, "you look lovely."

Cat grinned broadly showing off her little white baby teeth. Leliana straightened up again and led Cat out of their room.

As they travelled up the corridor they bumped quite literally into Saóirsè, dressed in her nightshirt and trousers, a little blood spattering the top. "Saóirsè!" Leliana exclaimed taking in her harried expression. "What is the matter? What has happened?"

"She's pregnant, Leliana." Saóirsè said in a mournful voice. Leliana was momentarily speechless. Saóirsè looked like she was fighting tears. Leliana crouched down with Catriona again. "Cat, baby, can you go ahead to have breakfast? Wait for us in the hall and we'll be right along, alright?" Cat nodded solemnly, then cast a confused look at her mother and headed down the hall into the dining hall where breakfast was being served."Saóirsè, _who_ is pregnant?" Leliana asked.

"Anora." Saóirsè choked out. "He knew and he still..."

"Still what?" Leliana asked her eyes narrowing as she predicted what Saóirsè would say. Saóirsè looked up.

"He slept with me last night." Her voice was laden with regret.

"Oh Saóirsè," Leliana said, sighing with sorrow for her friend. "Look, you need to go and get dressed, then meet me in the dining hall and have breakfast with your child. I'm here for you and I'll help you through this, but this is what you need to do right now. Can you do that?" Saóirsè nodded. Leliana took her hand and squeezed. "It _will_ be alright."

"Thank you." Saóirsè said offering a weak smile.

"Go get dressed." Leliana repeated. Saóirsè nodded again and turned back towards her room. Leliana watched her back departing and shook her head sadly. She knew that when they returned something would happen between those two. For all of Saóirsè fierce denial about her feelings, Leliana saw through that. There was a lot of hurt between them and Leliana had hoped they might go some way towards healing their rift, but it looked like more harm than good would come out of this meeting.

She turned and headed for the dining hall to meet up with Cat.

***

Saóirsè rubbed her hair as she walked into her room. The bedclothes were still rumpled and she could smell him in the room. Within seconds she had sank to her knees on the floor, covering her face with her hands and started sobbing and sobbing as if her heart were breaking. Last night had felt like a resolution; like a full stop at their end of their muddy history; like a cooling salve on a burning wound after years of it smouldering. She had felt that everything had changed in the best possible way.

Now she knew that nothing had changed. Alistair had come to her and lain with her knowing full well that his wife was pregnant and that there was nothing he could offer her. Once again he had taken from her giving nothing back and she felt hollowed out by his need.

She wept until she had no more tears left, then stood and left the room, heading blindly for some unknown destination.

***

Anora was drifting out of consciousness. It felt wonderful, like she was dying. Like she was being released from her earthly misgivings and grief and horror, and just melting away.

Wynne took Alistair to one side. "I have given her something to help her sleep—I expect that will help beyond anything else that I can do. And I have healed her wounds."

"How is she?" he asked, his voice thick with worry. Wynnes eyes were heavy with sadness for him.

"I'm very sorry, Alistair, but she is no longer pregnant."

Alistair nodded shakily. "I see."

Wynne took him into her arms even though she was shorter than him. He sank into the loving embrace—she was the closest thing to a mother (or grandmother as he had always teased her) that he had ever had and he was thankful she was there.

When they broke the hug both had tears on their faces. "I'm so sorry Alistair." Wynne said.

"As long as Anora is going to be alright, that's all that matters." He replied stoically.

"I think we had best leave the queen to her rest, now." Wynne said, leading Alistair by the arm out of the room.

Anora heard every word. So that was that. No baby and Alistair knew it. She had put herself through two weeks of torture all for nothing. To continue a ruse that had now gone up in smoke. She knew she could not put herself through it again. She would have to return to sleeping with Alistair in the tiny, vain hope that they could conceive.

But did she have the time for that? Now that the Warden Commander General was back would he have time for Anora anymore? Both had entered her room before any of the guards. Just what had they been doing in the early hours of dawn together alone?

When the grey took over her vision and sent her off into a dream she was grateful.

***

Alistair slowly made his way back to his room, his heart feeling swollen with anguish. If he had been with Anora last night, if he had just talked to her or something, then she would not have been attacked. Their child would still be alive. But he hadn't been. He had been with Saóirsè. He scratched at his chin where stubble was thick. He felt unwashed and bone weary. Last night had been so special. Saóirsè had been the only person on his mind. Yet his wife had suffered for it. Been attacked in such a degrading way and had her precious baby taken from her. His fault...all his fault.

He pushed open his door.

Something smashed against the wall beside his head and he flinched, adopting a defensive stance. Saóirsè was stood by his bureau, her face contorted with rage. "You bastard!" She grabbed another item and threw it at him. His arm flew up to shield his face, and was struck by the statue.

"Saóirsè stop!" he cried. She reached for something else but in two long strides he was there in front of her, grabbing her arms with his hands. "Stop it!"

"You bastard, you bastard!" she screamed, fighting against him until exhaustion stopped her. She sank against him and he held her, neither speaking, both breathing hard.

"I hate you." Saóirsè said bitterly. Alistair took the blow willingly. "You fog everything up." She pulled away from him and looked at him. "You once said to me that being around me made you feel like your head would explode, but you couldn't stand the idea of us being apart. I feel like that now, except I don't want this. I don't accept this. I don't accept _you_, in my life. Every time I am near you, you hurt me and I don't deserve this."

"You don't." Alistair agreed in a monotonous voice. "You deserve someone who will protect you from people like me."

Saóirsè was taken aback by his demeanour, given that only a few hours earlier he had been pressing her to stay with him. "I do. And that's what Cat deserves. If I choose to welcome a man into my life he needs to be a stable and secure addition to our family."

"I'm her father." Alistair said, his anger suddenly picking up. "I do deserve to be in her life."

"You made it clear that she and I weren't what you wanted—"

"I didn't know about Cat!" Alistair exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Had I known I would never have let you go!"

"I knew it," Saóirsè snarled. "I knew I was only good to you for my womb. Well too bad for you—you chose wrong!" She turned from him, then whirled around again. "I guess the last laugh's on me though."

Alistair frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask what she meant but she leapt in before he could speak.

"Anora's pregnant." Saóirsè said. "I heard you tell Wynne. I have to say you surely are following in your father's footsteps, creating both a bastard heir and a legitimate one. Maric would be proud of you."

Alistair clenched his fists. The desire to strike her was overwhelming, but he forced himself to focus on the fact that she was trying to hurt him with her words. He sank onto the bed and placed his hands safely on his knees. "Anora lost the baby."

His words were so quiet Saóirsè almost couldn't hear them, but they stabbed her right in the gut. Her cheeks burned from the shame of what she had said to him. "Oh Alistair." She said all anger deflating. She went to him, sat beside him and put one arm around his back, the other on his forearm. "I can't believe it, I'm so, so sorry."

Alistair looked squarely at the floor between his feet. "You're right, though."

"No, please don't take that to heart." Saóirsè said quickly, but he turned his neck to face her.

"It's true." Alistair shrugged. "I am like my father. I wonder if he loved my mother the way I love you. I always thought he just fancied a tumble and she was there and willing. I never thought I would forsake my wedding vows for one night with you. But I know now I would forsake everything for you. You intoxicate me and I can't think straight when I'm around you. My head is still exploding."

"Alistair..."

"But I have duties. I have a wife." Alistair sighed. "I want everything, but who truly gets their hearts desire? I have to be satisfied with the choice I made, even though it was the wrong one." They sat in silence for a moment before Alistair steeled himself for his next words. "But I cannot forsake Catriona. She is my child and I have to know her. I have already missed too much of her life."

"Alistair, don't—"

"Saóirsè, I will not fight you on this." Alistairs eyes were full of determination.

Saóirsè looked at him and knew that he was speaking the truth. She had opened herself up to this possibility and she would just have to make it work now that it was becoming fact. "Fine." She said.

"I spoke with Eamon a yesterday," Alistair went on. "He is my most trusted advisor and I shared my news with him." Saóirsè gritted her teeth and bit back her disproval of his divulging Cats parentage. She knew Eamon could be trusted, but she had a nagging feeling she knew where this was going. "He believes we should treat Cat as I was treated."

"What? Forced to live in a stable then shipped off to the Chantry at the first opportunity?" Saóirsè said in a voice dripping sarcasm.

"No," Alistair said patiently. "But we should not hide who she is from her. Now that...now that my...that Anora lost the baby more than ever. We may have to rely on Cat to take up the crown one day."

"I am against this wholeheartedly." Saóirsè said angrily.

"As was I when I was in Cats position." Alistair reminded her. "But you got me on the throne and rightly so. I have duties I was born into and so does Catriona."

Saóirsè stood up suddenly, beginning to pace in front of him. "I don't like this. It's not fair on Cat. What if she wants something else out of her life? Why should her birthright define her? She's half Dalish...why doesn't that count for something? What if she wants to go and live with them and help them?"

"Saóirsè, listen to yourself." Alistair said gently. "You are fighting a battle you cannot win, you know that."

Saóirsè wrung her hands nervously. "I just wanted to protect her." She said.

"I know." Alistair said. "As do I and I swear I will keep her safe."

***

When Wynne went to check on Anora, the queen was long gone. Still wearing her stained nightgown and wearing no shoes she had slipped from the castle like a spectre and made her way towards the cemetery. In a dark corner of the grounds there was a small nondescript gravestone bearing only the word: LOGHAIN upon it. She had fought for more words, some dates, a reference to his status as a hero in the Orlesian war, but not a single person had agreed. She fell to her knees on the withered grass that covered his grave.

"Father," she sobbed. "I need you. I have ruined everything. I have ruined myself—I have nothing left to play." She reached her hand out and pressed it palm down into the moss that had grown over the stone. "What should I do?"

There was no answer from the stone, nor the trees around her. She curled up on the grave in a foetal position and shivered. Within moments fat droplets of rain began splashing down on her but she paid them no heed.

***

"That nightmare we had," Alistair said looking at his hands while Saóirsè stood at his window looking out. "I had some questions about it."

"Yes?" she said without so much as inclining her head towards him.

"I rather missed the whole arch demon killing thing," Alistair said sardonically. "Had to stay behind and fold napkins for the banquet to hail the conquering hero."

Saóirsè rolled her eyes at the window.

"I heard that." Alistair said. "That dream we had...we were both there."

"I noticed that."

"Was that how it happened? I mean, bar my presence." Alistair asked.

"More or less." Saóirsè said. "I went for the demon, but Sten shouted to me to stop. I looked around and he was hauling Riordan over. I thought Riordan was dead for sure, but Sten had found him and he managed to hang on just long enough to destroy the demon."

"Hmm," Alistair said. "What about...the others?"

"They were there," Saóirsè said turning to him wondering at his line of questioning. "Oghren and Shale were alright, keeping the darkspawn at bay. Leliana and Zevran were each manning a Balista. Wynne was tending to Morrigan who'd been struck to the head. Sten had Riordan. And then me." She shrugged. "That was it."

Alistair frowned deeply but didn't ask any more questions.

***

Anora looked up as a shadow obscured her.

"My queen," a man held out his hand to help her up. "I came as soon as I heard. I knew I would find you here."

Anora allowed herself to be helped up. "Thomas."

Thomas Howe nodded to her. "I understand you require my assistance."

"I do." Anora said. "It is not what we planned, however. Tell me,"she asked leaning close to him. "How do you feel about kidnapping?"

"Would it bother you if I felt quite comfortable with that?" Thomas said with a crooked smile.

"I need a child kidnapping." Anora said. "The girl is the daughter of the Grey Warden Commander and the king. The two responsible for both our fathers deaths. Fitting, don't you think?"

"I do think." Thomas said. "What do I do with the brat?"

Anora set her eyes into a cold gaze. "Leave her to die in the wild."

"Your desire is my command."


	10. Chapter 10

_Wow, check out all those reviews! Thanks guys they mean so much. I am trying my best to portray Anora as just a regular character rather than a baddie as such, although that is also pretty much what she is. I do feel bad for her being locked in the tower then married to the guy who killed her dad and forced to try to make babies etc. But like I said I needed to really get her to a point where she felt so desperate and backed into a corner that she feels she has only one option left to her to save herself. _

_Thomas Howe is Arl Rendon Howes' son. He's mentioned in the human noble origin story at the start and I thought who better to conspire with Anora than the son of her father's right hand man? Besides with a father like him he's bound to be a little bit twisted. Arl Howes land was in Amaranthine, but after the Blight their land was stripped from them to give land to the Dalish, so there's another reason Thomas would be pissed! _

_Also, sorry for the delay between the last chapter and this; I have had family staying so have been a dutiful hostess. _

Chapter 10

_The next morning_

"Are you sure you are ready for this?" Alistair asked as he and Saóirsè walked through the courtyard. Saóirsè stopped and glared at him.

"Alistair!" she said in annoyance. "You're the one pushing this; you can't be the one having doubts now! _I_ have the doubts, _you_ have the confidence!"

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Alistair bit his lip. "Listen, can you recall how I was terrified about meeting my sister? Well take that and multiply it by about a million. That's how nervous I am."

"You've met Cat before." Saóirsè pointed out gently.

"Yes but then she was just the girl I thought was Leliana's daughter." Alistair said. "Not my secret, long lost baby!"

"You have nothing to worry about," Saóirsè said resuming her walk. "I am the one who has to sit her child down and say 'Cat, remember how I said your father had died before you were born? Well I lied, this is he and he's the damn king'. I am the horrible mother here."

"No you're not, but I'm not going over that again." Alistair said firmly.

They walked out of the palace district and headed for the market. Wynne and Leliana had taken Cat to the Wonders of Thedas shop, after Catriona had begged to see it. Alistair had been worried about the shopping excursion until Saóirsè had delicately explained that Wynne knew all about Cat including who her true parents were. Although he had started to take umbrage at the idea of yet another person having known his daughter before him, he had conceded that Wynne was a trusted friend and a good grandmotherly figure for Cat. Catriona would be perfectly safe with the mage and the bard, especially in such a secure location as Denerim.

***

Anora sat in the opulent sitting room working on needlepoint. Her fingers deftly stitched the pattern but her mind was elsewhere. She looked up as Thomas entered the room and smiled warmly, playing the role of the queen welcoming a lord.

"Your highness," Thomas greeted her bowing low. He moved over to the bookcase and with his back to the room he perused the spines. Anora was seated just to the right of him and did not look up from her work as he spoke quietly.

"The plan is in motion." He said softly. "The girl is visiting the Wonders of Thedas shop at noon with the First Enchanter and the Orlesian woman who follows the Grey Warden around like a lapdog."

"Do not underestimate her," Anora said still not pausing her stitching. "She is a bard and a formidable opponent."

"We have an ally in the shop, a mage who owes me rather a lot. She is going to create a diversion, and then we have three men in place to snatch the girl in the chaos. They will be out of the city before anyone has noticed her absence."

"Good." Anora said, snipping off her thread. "I would prefer it if the First Enchanter could be spared—I would hate to replace her when she is doing good work. But I would consider it to be a bonus if the bard were to perish."

"I'll see what we can do."

***

Wynne pushed the door to the Wonders of Thedas shop open and held it for Cat to step inside. Her green eyes were wide in awe as she took in the floor to ceiling bookshelves and the interesting assortments of magical items on the display cabinets. Leliana and Wynne followed her drinking in her joy at the new place. There were a few people dotted around browsing the wares. Cat slipped her hand into Wynnes and marched her towards a table bearing glittering gems.

"I want to see the pretty stones," she said. Wynne was more than happy to indulge the girl.

"This is a lifestone," Wynne said picking up a small orange stone. "You can use this to make salves. Your mama is very good at that, you know?" She replaced the stone and gestured to a collection of icy-blue stones. "These are a mixture of frozen lightning and frost rocks. You can make different salves with them."

"What else can mamae make?" Cat asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Well," Wynne said moving the two over towards a shelf filled with elixirs. "You mama can make these potions, too. You mostly use herbs for these, like this one." She picked up an elfroot leaf by its stem and held it out for Catriona to see.

Leliana kept one eye on them as she wandered about the shop; her natural protective instincts were too strong to push away, even in a safe situation like this one. She ran her fingers along several books as she moved out of sight of Wynne and Catriona. She was near the back of the shop where there were steps up to the mezzanine area just behind the tranquil proprietor. Tranquils were no longer being created unless a mage broke too many rules and needed to be suitably magically neutered—a a punishment not a failsafe technique. Alistair, together with Wynne, was working to grant mages more freedom from the Templar's who watched over them, reasserting their roles as protectors instead of prison guards. This particular tranquil had been in charge of the shop since before the Blight however.

Leliana stopped suddenly as something caught her eye. A female mage was stood stock still before a bookcase. There was something about her stillness that unnerved Leliana. As she watched, the mage took a book from the shelf and then slipped something in the cavity left by the book. "Hey!" she shouted. The mage whipped her head around in fright, and then threw the book at Leliana in a panic, trying to run. Leliana leapt and caught the mage by her trailing hair, yanking her back. "Wynne!" she yelled to the First Enchanter, who turned to see the commotion. Other patrons in the shop were turning to look as well.

The female mage turned terrified eyes onto Leliana and the bard hesitated, seeing genuine fear.

Then chaos reigned.

The bookshelf where the mage had removed the book, suddenly exploded into large and small chunks of wood, which flew in each direction accompanied by ripped apart books. Leliana dropped the mage and turned to see Wynne duck and cover Cat with her body, but a tome struck her and she was knocked to the ground. The Tranquil shop keeper remained where he stood even as he was bombarded with wooden splinters. He disappeared beneath the debris. Leliana made for Cat, but then something tripped her and she tumbled to the floor. When she looked up, she caught a glimpse of a boot heading for her face and then she only heard a girl screaming and then silence.

***

Alistair and Saóirsè immediately broke into a run as soon as they heard the blast, instinctively heading for the sound without checking the source of the noise. As they crossed the market district they were met by people running from the Wonders of Thedas and they quickened their approach.

The shop was a mess. The windows had been blown out and the door was hanging off its hinges and books and shrapnel littered the entrance. Saóirsè felt her heart stop as she peered inside the building. "Catriona!" she shouted into the gloom. "Cat!" She climbed onto the pile of debris in the doorway.

"Saóirsè, be careful," Alistair said as she slipped and nearly fell. She didn't appear to hear him.

"Cat?" She felt her way into the shop. Only a few slivers of light were entering the shop from the door and the broken window, so while it was easy to see at the entrance, the further back the room went the darker it became. "Cat!"

She heard Alistair climb into the shop behind her then felt his hand slip into hers and squeeze it. It was then that she felt the tears on her cheeks and she was grateful, for now, that he was with her. "Catriona?" he added his voice to hers, not forgetting her companions. "Wynne? Leliana?"

A moan sounded in the gloom. Saóirsè turned and followed the sound. "Who's that?" she cried, needing more noise to ascertain the direction.

"Saóirsè?"

"Wynne!" Saóirsè dropped to her knees by the sound and felt for the mages cold hand. "Wynne, are you badly hurt?"

"Where's Catriona?" Wynne asked.

"I don't know," Saóirsè said with a small sob.

"Wynne, can you move?" Alistair crouched beside his friend and spoke with a gentle voice.

"I think so," Wynne said. "My face is wet...I think I'm bleeding."

"Come on," Alistair said, feeling for Wynnes back and legs. He easily lifted the old woman in his arms.

"Majesty?" came a shout from the doorway. Alistair turned to the guard shouting.

"In here." Alistair shouted back, an authoritative edge creeping into his voice. "The First Enchanter is hurt. Somebody fetch healers and a light!"

"Here, ser." Someone pushed forward and brought with him a lit torch. Saóirsè went to the doorway and retrieved it so that Alistair could more safely find his way to the entrance and pass Wynne to the waiting men.

"Take good care of her." Alistair said. As Wynne was carried into the daylight he saw the wound on her forehead which was streaming with blood. The red looked garish and painful in her silvery hair and Alistair sent out a quick prayer to the Maker that she would recover from her injury. The guards set about removing the planks of wood in the door and so let more beams of light enter the shop.

"Alistair, we have to find Cat," Saóirsè said beside him. He turned and followed her searching by torchlight.

"Cat?" she called. Then she stopped suddenly and Alistair bumped into her.

"What is it?" he asked worried.

She dropped to her knees and he moved around her to see, taking the torch from her as she was holding it at a strange angle, having forgotten it was in her hands.

"Leliana," Saóirsè breathed bending over the bard. Alistair looked: Leliana was on her side, with blood coating her face and hair and pooling on the floor. Her nose had defiantly been broken—it looked like someone had hit her with a blunt force to the face. She was bent into the foetal position, and he wondered if she had received a kick to the abdomen.

"Oh no," Saóirsè said, and Alistair crouched beside her again. "Alistair, I can't tell if she's breathing." Saóirsès face was a mask of concern.

"Here," he gave her back the torch. "I'll take her out." He scooped Leliana up and carried her through the shop, Saóirsè at his heels holding the light.

Then Leliana gave a sudden cough and Alistair felt rather than saw the blood spattering his chest and neck.

"Leliana," Saóirsè was beside her like a shot.

"Saóirsè..." Leliana said thickly. "I think...I think..."

"It's alright Saóirsè soothed, "you'll be alright."

"This was no accident," Leliana said. "The mage knows...she set the bomb..."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry." Alistair said soothingly.

"But," Leliana coughed again. "I think they took Cat."

***

Saóirsè was running faster than she had ever run in her life. People froze as she passed them—she was like a woman possessed. She dimly heard someone shouting her name but it seemed like an irrelevant thing to stop for. The gates were in view, the entrance and exit of the city and she ran towards them with only one thought on her mind: getting to her daughter before it was too late.

"Saóirsè!" Alistair struggled to catch up with the elf; she had had a head start as she had ran from the shop before he could even process what Leliana was saying and then he had had to pass Leliana safely to a waiting guard before he could begin his pursuit. "Saóirsè!"

Saóirsè came to the closed gates and came to a stop, hitting the gate with her fists. "Open them!" she screamed. "Open them this instant!"

Alistair finally caught Saóirsè and grabbed her arms to pull her from the gate. "Saóirsè, wait."

"Let me go," she yelled, turning to the gate keepers. "Open them!"

"Saóirsè," Alistair shouted, pausing her frantic yelling for a moment. "Wait. The gates would have been sealed as soon as the alarm call went out when the shop exploded."

He looked at the guard, who nodded at once.

"That's right, your majesty, ser." He said. "Not a single person has entered or left since then."

"But..." Saóirsè faltered. "But then where is Cat? Where's my baby?"

"I don't know, but they can't have gone far." Alistair said, and then addressed the guards. "Keep the gate sealed until I and only I give the order to re-open them. No-one may leave or enter until then." Satisfied that his instruction had been heard he turned back to Saóirsè. "I will command the guard to search every street and house until they find her. We have to be rational and think about this. I need to you to come with me and give the guards a description of Catriona so that they know who to look for."

Saóirsè nodded shakily and allowed herself to be led away.

***

Cat was mostly asleep, but a little bit awake. Not awake enough to move or open her eyes or speak, but enough to hear the voices of the three men who were her captors. She heard their nervous, but thrilled laughter as they boasted about how clever they were to nab a Grey Wardens child. They had grabbed her and ran from the shop, merging with the crowds. They had even passed Saóirsè and Alistair as they ran towards the shop. Cat heard her mamae's name and wanted to cry out for her but couldn't make her mouth form the words. She heard one man brag about how clever he was to have come up with the plan to escape the city. How he had a brother with a boat. How they had reached the last bridge on the most Easterly side of Denerim before the docks so no-one would see them, and how they had thrown themselves off the bridge into the Drakon River, to be picked up by the small boat. They were not heading far—the boat was small and nowhere near sturdy enough for a sea voyage. They just needed to be out of the city without any chance of being followed.

Catriona was cold and wet but they had covered her with a blanket. She could not make herself cry, so potent was the potion they had poured down her throat to keep her quiet, but she could feel the sorrow and fear inside as she cried out in her mind for her mother to rescue her.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The piece of paper merely revealed the scribbled words: "_**It is done**_". Anora grimaced as she tossed it into the fire and then took herself from the room.

***

"Eamon, we need to conduct a thorough search of the city," Alistair ordered. His advisor nodded grimly, stealing a quick glance at the shattered Grey Warden Commander who sat slumped in her chair beside the king. "I need to know of any and every possible exit that could exist, any weakened areas in the wall that these people could slip through."

"My liege," Eamon hesitated before going on. "Are you quite sure this accident was instigated to snatch the little girl?"

"I believe what Leliana told us." Alistair said firmly.

"But...all this effort to take a single child?" Eamon asked shaking his head in disbelief.

"Someone must know," Saóirsè said suddenly whilst rising from her seat. "Don't you see? Someone must know that she is my daughter. There are still plenty of people in Ferelden who count Grey Wardens among their enemies, those who still believe the lies that Loghain left behind. Someone must have discovered that Catriona is my child and saw the perfect opportunity to exact some sort of twisted justice." She buried her face in her hands. "I should have been more careful..."

"Or perhaps they know that she is mine." Alistair said quietly. Both Saóirsè and Eamon turned to him. "Perhaps someone discovered the truth about her father and wanted to leave Ferelden without an heir. Especially since Anora..." he trailed off, feeling a stab of guilt that he was not spending more time tending to his broken wife.

"I'm know this is difficult for you both," Eamon said. "We will get every guardsman onto the case at once. We already have every man on patrol searching, but we shall call up those on duty in the palace as well."

"I want the Wardens to travel with them." Saóirsè said. "Just as we can sense when darkspawn are nearby, so, too can we feel the presence of other Wardens. Cat was born with the taint in her blood so I want to use their abilities in this search."

"The taint?" Alistair said before sighing. "I should have known. When one Grey Warden produces a child Duncan told me the taint passes into the Childs blood in a very mild form. For two? Well, I guess that makes the taint stronger."

"Leliana told me that Catriona always knew when I was coming home." Saóirsè shrugged. "She was ten months old the first time she knew. She went to the door to wait for an hour before I reached them." She deliberately did not look at Alistair when she spoke. The realisation that her child was tainted by darkspawn blood, a realisation that came when Catriona was barely days old, was one that she tried not to think about. She dreaded what this would mean for her daughters adult life; would she be able to become a mother herself? Would this mean her life would be shortened? Alistair told her Grey Wardens got about thirty years before their time was up. For Saóirsè that would take her to her mid-fifties, but her daughter might die during or before her thirtieth year. She shuddered.

"Saóirsè, I understand your theory but I do not believe we should dispatch the entire Grey Warden army—such as they are—in the search of one child." Eamon looked apologetic but Saóirsè rounded on him with fury in her eyes.

"Do not forgot Eamon that it was we who saved your child when he was in danger and who reunited your family by saving _you_." Saóirsè snarled. "The least you could do is allow me the means to find _my_ daughter."

Before Eamon could reply the door opened and Anora swept in with tears in her eyes.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed going over to Saóirsè and surprising everyone by embracing the elf. "I have just heard the news, you must be devastated!"

When Anora released her, Saóirsè just stood dumbfounded for a moment. Anora took her hand and gazed sincerely into her eyes. "I can only offer my most heartfelt condolences. Of course I now understand what it is like to lose a child." She laid a hand on her belly as she spoke of this, but Saóirsè felt nothing but discomfort from this display of kindness. Alistair shifted uneasily, once again sickened by his negligence towards Anora.

"How did you...?"

"How did I know she was yours?" Anora finished Saóirsès sentence. "Well, I heard the guards speaking of this. That a Grey Warden child had been stolen away and, well, I have to say I leapt to the most obvious conclusion." Anora gave Saóirsè a sisterly sort of smile. "I am hardly surprised. What man would not be swept away by the chance to bed such a strong and sensual woman?"

Saóirsè frowned...was that a veiled insult? "Erm, thank you for your kind words, your highness." She said taking back her hand. Anoras nails left thin scratches on her skin. "You'll forgive me, but there is much to be done and I need to find my...daughter."

"I am sure." Anora said. "Will you be leaving the city at once?"

"The city?" Alistair said, stepping forward. Anora forced her face to remain calm as she noticed him stand closer to Saóirsè than herself. "What do you mean?"

"I heard the guards say that they had discovered a weak point in the walls only two days ago." Anoras expression was one of innocence, in spite of the fact that it was Thomas who had arranged for a decoy weak spot to be created. Should they take the bait, the Warden would be heading South towards New Lothering, when her daughter was truly being taken along the North coastlands and would be dead before her mother caught wind of her location. A little nagging voice spoke up in the back of Anoras mind, but she paid it no heed. She reminded herself that she was acting in Fereldens best interests, and that the girl was just one necessary casualty along the way.

Anora rounded on Eamon. "Do you mean to say, Eamon that nothing has been done about this spot?"

"I...your highness, I was unaware of such a weakened area." Eamon said confused. "Nothing has reached me regarding this."

"I am most disappointed." Anora said.

Saóirsè turned to Alistair. "We have to go. Now!"

Anora balked at that. "Wait just a moment," she said, trying to keep a sweet tone of voice. "I must protest. You cannot take my husband along with you." _Unless he wants to confess his bastard child to me. _

"You highness," Saóirsè implored. "I need his skills as a Grey Warden. I know this is not right of me to ask, but please, allow me to merely borrow him for a while."

"Out of the question." Anora said, her facade slipping in her anger. _I want you gone, wench, not him. I need this time to drag him back from your vile clutches._

Alistair sighed. "Anora, I'm sorry, but you cannot speak for me. I have to do this; I have to honour my commitment to the Grey Wardens and to my friend." He laid a hand on Saóirsès shoulder as he said this and Anora felt bile rise in her throat.

"Very well." She spat. "Take him. Be gone, the both of you." She whirled and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I light of your recent...attack," Alistair continued, "I want Eamon to step in for me once again as regent while I am gone. I do not want you being overwhelmed by the minutiae of ruling the country when you should be recovering."

Anora shut her eyes, but could not shut out the words. They felt like barbs on her skin—_just take everything from me. _"I understand, husband."

She heard all three leave the hall and she pressed her nails into the skin of her arms until she drew blood to save from screaming out loud.

***

Catriona was awake again. She was warm again and could move a little. She opened her mouth. "Mamae."

"Runts awake."

"Keep her quiet then."

"Why? Not exactly surrounded by civilisation are we?"

"Even so. I don't fancy finding myself on the sharp end of a Grey Wardens sword, do you?"

"Fair enough."

The movement had changed. Before Catriona had been swayed by the boats motion in the sea. Now she was bumped around and heard the sounds of wheels squeaking and the clop of horses' hooves. A cart. A road. Where?

"Mamae," she sobbed.

***

Saóirsè broke down while trying to pack her gear quickly. She was throwing items into a backpack in a haphazard manner and came across the wooden toy sword she had brought for Cat only a few weeks earlier. The tears came with no warning and she found herself doubled over on the floor, the sobs racking her body and her breath ragged.

"Cat..." she wept.

***

Alistair pulled on his old dragon scale armour and slipped Duncan's shield off its mount on the wall. Her buckled his swords sheath to his back and took a deep breath. He felt as though he had shucked off the mantle of king of Ferelden. He felt like he was Alistair, failed Templar turned Grey Warden, mentored by one of the greatest men to ever grace Fereldens plains. He turned, eager to step back into the role of following Saóirsè wherever she went, and to find their child together.

***

"I am quite well enough, thank you," Wynne snapped at the healer who tried to stand in her way. "I merely sustained a blow to the head that is all."

"But...First Enchanter..."

"But nothing." Wynne said, her eyes blazing. The healer took a step back. "My dearest friends are in need of my assistance and I will give it to them. No matter who should choose to stand in my way."

Wynne swept past the healer and down the long room that housed the sick. She caught a movement to one side and turned. Leliana was getting to her feet, her face still showing signs of bruising over her nose and under her eyes and bandaged thickly around her ribs. "I am coming, too, Wynne."

Wynne took in the bards' appearance. Then she nodded for her to follow. After all, this decision was down to the Wardens, and she couldn't stop Leliana from coming, especially not after haranguing that healer for the same reason.

The two women made their way to the city gates.

***

Saóirsè and Alistair walked slowly to the gate. They had been filled in by the guards who had investigated the wall and found the alleged weak spot. Now they had found an escape route, they also had a direction in which to head.

Alistair was giving orders as they went. "Send messengers on to the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, to New Lothering, even onto Radcliffe. I want everywhere on the lookout for Catriona."

"Yes, ser."

"Send word to Orzammer and the Mages Circle, as well," Saóirsè piped up suddenly. "I want all our allies to help in this search. And they can cover more ground this way."

"I agree." Alistair said, making sure this new instruction was being noted, too. The guard nodded and went to order the messengers.

"Thank you." Saóirsè said, without looking at Alistair.

"What for?" he asked bemused.

"Everything? For using every resource you have. For making sure everyone takes this search seriously. For coming with me."

"Saóirsè, we will find her," Alistair said taking her hand and stopping them both in the street. "I swear this to you. I know my word has been proven to be somewhat...over-ambitious. But I have never spoken a truer word or made a firmer promise"

Saóirsè nodded, unable to say anything. Alistair cupped her chin with his fingers and gently tilted her face upwards. "I swear." He repeated solemnly.

Saóirsè offered a weak smile then marched on towards the gate, with Alistair on her heels.

As the Wardens approached the open gate they saw two figures standing beside it, clad in familiar looking travelling wear and each holding a pack. Alistair couldn't help but smile as they reached Wynne and Leliana, both fixed with determined expressions.

"What are you doing?" Saóirsè asked in a voice that suggested she knew full well what they were doing.

"We are going to accompany the two of you," Wynne said simply. "Four pairs of eyes see better than just two after all."

"We can be of assistance in the search." Leliana threw in. Saóirsè sighed.

"Leliana, look at you." She said, gesturing to her face. "You're a mess."

"Thank you for your kind words, Saóirsè," Leliana said wryly, but before Saóirsè could apologise or explain further she carried on speaking. "Wynne and I love Cat as well and we want to help find her. I am not so badly hurt—my nose has been set and my ribs taped up. If I hold you up then I will search on my own." She shrugged. "You cannot stop me from helping."

"Nor I," Wynne agreed. Saóirsè smiled at them both.

"Thank you," she said warmly. "You are both true friends." Alistair nodded.

"Word is being sent all over Ferelden so that Catriona's captors will not be able to travel anywhere without being caught." He explained to the mage and the bard. "We are sending out search parties, each headed by a Grey Warden, fanning out in similar but separate directions. We are heading across the Bannorn towards Lake Calenhad."

"Let us begin then," Leliana said and the four companions passed through the gate.


	12. a quick note

A very quick note to say that I'm sorry about the long delay between chapters: my laptop (that I've only owned since November, grrr) crashed and died in Feb. I had to send it back to Dell to get the hardrive replaced, but sadly chapter 12 was on that ruined hardrive and so is lost forever. I will endeavour to replace the awesomeness of that chapter (truly, it was my favourite) as speedily as possible but I wanted to let y'all know I haven't forgotten you.

You all rock.


	13. Chapter 12

_Authors Note: Well, the old chapter twelve, the one that died with my hardrive, was very personal for me and I don't quite feel up to trying to recreate that right now. I've pushed it back a chapter or two for now. Fortunately inspiration has struck which can help me take it in a different direction. So that's what I'm gonna do._

_And yes, I am shamelessly relying on flashbacks to get back into the groove!_

* * *

Chapter Twelve

_4 years ago_

_Saóirsè was avoiding my gaze. This was nothing new of late; however I had a feeling just why she was avoiding me at this moment. Riordan had just delivered a massive blow to us. A Grey Warden secret that was news even to me. My first thought went to Duncan and I was overwhelmed by the flash of anger I felt—why did he hide this from me? Why was I not good enough to be told? I pushed the anger away...I could not conceive myself feeling anything but love and respect for my mentor. I would not stand for it in myself. I was just in shock that was all._

"_I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Riordan said to us both. "I understand this will be difficult for you both to take in."_

"_No," Saóirsè said bluntly. "The new king is not fighting in this battle, so this has nothing to do with him. I will take the final blow."_

"_Saóirsè—" I started, but Riordan cut in._

"_It warms my heart to see you take your duty so seriously, with such grace." Riordan said. "But I am the senior Warden here and I will be the one to strike. It is only if I fail that you need take up the task."_

_Saóirsè nodded curtly then made her excuses to leave. I glanced at Riordan then followed her._

"_Saóirsè, wait!" I called to her. She didn't even slow her pace or look around. "This changes things for us, you have to let me fight!"_

"_This changes nothing." Saóirsè said sharply. I caught up with her and grabbed her arm. She immediately tried to pull away, but I yanked her into a nearby room. _

"_Get off me!" she shouted at me, but I held firm. _

"_You have to listen, for once, Saóirsè." I barked. "Stop being so stubborn! You have to let me fight now; I cannot let you do this alone."_

"'_Cannot _**let**_ me?'" Saóirsè replied, incredulously. "Since when do I take orders from you?"_

_My face burned—it was true, I had allowed her to take control since Ostagar. I had been too busy drowning in grief and sorrow and (if was I being honest) in fear that with Cailan dead I would have to step up to the throne. I had gladly deferred to the fresh new recruit who was probably just as scared as I had been, and as I learned later, was grieving just as much if not more than I was: she having been forced to leave her Dalish clan following the death of her dearest friend, a death she felt responsible for. This woman, barely into her twenties in a foreign world unlike any she had ever known and I passed the duty of uniting Ferelden and stopping the Blight onto her shoulders. And now I was trying to pull rank? I was such a stupid man._

_Saóirsè startled me out of my self- loathing by giving her arm and almighty tug and freeing herself from my grip. Quickly I dove around her, blocking the door, her one exit. Her face was contorted with rage._

"_Get out of my way, Alistair, or I swear I will put a dent in that handsome face of yours again." _

_I stared at her. I did not recognise the woman I loved so much. I had turned her into something so filled with unhappiness and fury. There was that self-loathing again. I swallowed and tried to steady my voice._

"_Saóirsè, please." Damnit, man, get that tremor out of your tone. "You can't go to the battle without me. I can't stand by and watch you throw yourself into your possible death."_

"_Tough." She snarled and I lost my patience._

"_You are so bloody impossible!" I yelled exasperated. "Why can't you listen to reason?"_

_Saóirsè stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest._

"_You mean like you listened to reason before."_

"_When?" I frowned._

"_When Riordan suggested sparing Loghain." She said. Her words were like a knife in my belly._

"_How can you say that?" I asked. "You know we couldn't let him live."_

"_If you had thought about something other than your bloodthirsty desire for revenge we wouldn't be having this problem now." She said coldly. "Obviously what Riordan was proposing was allowing Loghain to become a Grey Warden in order for him to slay the demon to save all our lives."_

_My blood boiled. "That was out of the question and you knew it. Loghain had no right to become our brother—Duncan's brother. After what he did...well, he's lucky we didn't torture him."_

"_I wanted to keep him alive, and I said as much." Saóirsè said. "I wanted to give him the chance to redeem himself."_

"_What, by honouring him with glory?" I scoffed. She threw her hands up._

"_So that's what it all comes down to?" she said. "Glory? _**Glory**_ is what got Cailan killed—what got Duncan killed. And now it's going to get me—" she broke off and looked away. I felt my breath catch._

"_Get you killed?" I finished for her. "You mean _**I **_am going to get you killed?"_

_When she turned back she had tears in her eyes. "I am sure you have consoled yourself with the thought that without you I desire nothing more than death...you know, to put me out of my misery? Sorry, but that's just wishful thinking on your part. I very much want to live." She stumbled over her words and began to pace up and down gesturing wildly with her arms. "I want to survive this. I want to go home—I want to make myself a new home. I want to see more of the world. I want to go to Orlais with Leliana; I want to go to Antiva with Zevran. I want to be shown places I never thought I would see when I was a girl—places I never knew existed. I want to secure more rights for the Dalish off the back of what I have achieved as a Grey Warden." She turned and looked me squarely in the eye. "I don't want to die."_

_I looked away shamefully. She pushed past me and went out of the room._

***

"You look deep in thought." Alistair jumped at the sound of Lelianas' observation. He gave her a small smile.

"Its nothing." He said. "Just thoughts." She fell into step beside him. "How is Saóirsè doing?" Alistair asked.

Leliana thought for a moment before replying. "She is focussed on the task in hand in a way that scares me. It is her baby that has been stolen and getting her back is everything to her." Leliana gave me a sideways glance. "I am sure you can understand."

Alistair nodded briefly and looked over to Saóirsè. Leliana rubbed his arm kindly. "Go speak with her." She said gently. "You can offer her more comfort in this situation than I can."

Alistair took a deep breath and crossed the path they were treading to fall into step with Saóirsè. She didn't look up at him.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be saying to her. The words he formed in his head sounded vacuous and meaningless given the situation. Instead of trying and failing to say something helpful, he just slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. After a few moments she squeezed back.

***

Cat shivered in the cold. She needed a new blanket. She was so cold and couldn't stop her body from shaking. She heard a man's gruff voice and then a new layer of warmth was added. It didn't help. She could feel dampness on her forehead. She was still frozen. She tried to move her arms but they were weighed down. Her eyeballs rolled in her head. She coughed—she needed water. She heard more noises but felt herself slipping into the realm of unconsciousness. Before she was completely lost to the waking world, she cried out inside her mind: "Help me!"

***

Saóirsè turned when she noticed the others had stopped. "What it is?" she asked, confused.

"Saóirsè, we must make camp for the night." Wynne explained wearily.

"No," Saóirsè said shaking her head in disbelief. "We haven't even been walking that long. We must press on."

"Saóirsè," Alistair said slowly. "We have been walking for nearly a full twenty-four hours. Dawn is only a few hours away—you have to rest until then. It is too dark to search now, anyway."

"No," Saóirsè said again, firmly. "You can stop if you must, but I'm carrying on."

Leliana stepped up to her. "Sweet, we cannot go on. We have to rest and recuperate—we're no good to Catriona like this."

"But..." Saóirsè said, her lip quivering. "But, Cat..."

"Come on," Leliana lead her by the hand to where Alistair had created a small pile of wood and was attempting to light it.

***

_I'm dreaming. I know I'm dreaming. I'm walking through the Fade, but it resembles somewhere I've seen before. I can hear a strange noise and it takes me a while to place it. Seagulls. I can see them now, hovering in mid air, floating above a crystalline ocean. The waves are breaking so softly on the cobbled beach and the sun is shimmering across the water. The image is peaceful, yet I feel no harmony. Something terrible is happening here, only I cannot see it. I step over the ground and feel sharp stones prick my heels. I look down and see bare feet on a dirt track. There are weeds growing either side of the path and I look up to follow the length of it. I can see it now, the terrible thing. I see a cart, pulled by a mangy looking pony. There are three men walking beside it with one leading the pony. They do not look like particularly nice men, although they are dressed as merchants. As they pass me by I step off the path so they do not run me down; they do not appear to even notice me. I turn away from the cart and begin to walk further along the path, and then I hear it. The anguished cry for help. My heart responds in equal measures before I even register the sound._

_It is my daughter. I know where she is._

***

"Alistair!" Saóirsè cried as she woke; already leaping from her bedroll before her eyes were fully opened. Alistair sprang awake from his own position lying close by.

"Did you dream of her, too?" He asked.

Saóirsè looked up and him and clasped his arms. "I know where she is."

"You do?" Alistair asked. "I dreamt of her; I heard her cry out. I think it was from the north somewhere, but I don't know where exactly."

"I do." Saóirsè insisted. "I was there. I saw the men who took her and the pony and cart they're using. They're pretending to be merchants."

"That's incredible." Alistair said astounded. "I guess I have a connection to her because of the taint, but yours must be stronger than that."

"I'm her mother." Saóirsè said simply, and then looked into Alistair's face. "But do not forget: you are her father. Your connection to her runs deeper than the tainted blood." Alistair smiled shyly at this, but for once he accepted the kindness she imparted without deflecting it with a joke.

Alistair got to his feet and helped Saóirsè to stand. Wynne and Leliana were stirring from the noise and the sun started to break over the horizon.

"I call that dawn." Saóirsè said. "I want to get going. We need to head north."

"That will mean cutting across country due north." Alistair said. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Saóirsè said firmly. "They were travelling along the coast, along a basic path. They're further north even than the North road." She glanced at their surroundings. "We're already travelling off the beaten track anyway. And I don't intend to travel due north. I plan on heading north-west. They seemed to be heading in a westerly direction and I want to try to cut them off."

Alistair took it all in a nodded. They both turned to Wynne and Leliana to impart the new information, but the women were already packing up.

"We heard," Leliana said by way of explanation. Saóirsè smiled at her friends then she and Alistair joined in packing up their simple camp and they began to trek towards the place where Saóirsè believed her daughter to be.

***

The Deep Roads were no longer as heavily defended as they had been during the Blight or in the months right after it ended, but the dwarves were nevertheless keeping a watchful eye on things. Mostly the darkspawn were quiet but every now and again a motley group of bandits rose up and attempted to break out. Sometimes they were successful, often they were not. Whenever they were able to breach the defence, a team were sent forth to put down the threat as soon as possible. This was overseen by Oghren, who lived in a home he had created with his wife, Felsi, on the surface in front of the mountain that contained the city of Orzammar. His contact within the Deep Roads was the free golem Shale and while he did not dislike speaking with her, his heart sank when he opened the door to her during the very same dawn in which their old companions were setting a course north-west.

"Whaddaya want at this hour, Shale?" he said in a voice even gruffer than normal due to the early hour. From back inside the small cottage a baby gave a cry. "Aw, now ya gone and woken little Sassy."

"The Dwarf General must listen," Shale explained solemnly. "I have some severe news to impart on it."

"Go ahead, Shale." Oghren said, scratching at his beard in a sleepy way. "I'm listenin'."

"There has been a breach." Shale advised. "Many dwarves are dead and a strong group of dark spawn have reached the surface."

Oghren stopped scratching himself. "How big? And how strong?"

"A great number." Shale said thoughtfully. "Many hurlocks and an ogre."

"Damn." Oghren grimaced at the idea. Usually the groups of bandits consisted of mostly grenlocks with the odd Hurlock leading them. Rarely several hurlocks and _**never**_ ogres. "Any idea where they were heading?"

"None." Shale replied.

"Well, looks like we best get going after them." Oghren said sighing. He turned back into the house. "Felsi! Where's my gear? I gotta go on a huntin' trip!"

***

The darkspawn group moved as one unit down the mountainside. Something was above ground and it had called for them. They didn't know what it was...or even if it was one of them...but they could not ignore the cry. The fervour they placed into their attack to escape the Deep Roads was testament to the urgency they felt driving them to search for it. They had a general direction in mind and they marched on heedless of anything standing in there way.

They had to find the source of the shout.

They had to.


	14. Chapter 13

_Okedoke, here I tried to recreate the magic of that lost chapter, and I'm even happier. Not least because that chapter has been condensed into one page without losing anything. Yay. I'm wary of being repetitive, but I've wanted to bring Alistair to the same place as Saóirsè and now I've done that we can move on._

_I'm not sure what happened at the start—the story took over, but I'm happy with it!_

Chapter 13

Vernon Telford was still alive, but for what purpose he did not know. When he sobered up in the hours following his attack on the queen, he knew his life was now forfeit. Bad enough that he raped Anora, he had also been caught red handed (so to speak) by the king and his Warden Commander. There would be no talking his way out of this one. And yet here he was. Still very much alive, albeit very uncomfortably so. He was in a small holding cell in the dungeons, barely big enough for him to sit down in, with a bed of straw and that was that. Never mind swinging a cat in it, one couldn't swing one's own arms about without scraping the skin off one's hands in the process. Vernon mused on this and many other things while the days piled upon the other and he began to lose track. Something was going on, up on the 'surface' and it was keeping his execution at bay at least for the while. He had barely even seen a guard in the days and nights he had been captured. One meal a day arrived for him and was removed along with his ablutions bucket in the evening. That was all. He was surprised and even a little pissed off. What, was he truly so unimportant these days, since being stripped of his Bann that not even his heinous crime could summon attention to himself? He sighed; he knew he was being the pinnacle of pathetic. In truth the days were wearing him out—he knew he had no way out of this cell bar the hangman's noose and quite frankly the walls were driving him crazy. He began to crave the face of his executioner if only to see another living being and the fresh air he would experience before his breath left him was at least something to look forward to. But no-one came.

And then finally, when he was starting to go a little mad from the scurrying noise of the rats around his cell, he was visited by someone most unexpected.

"Greetings, Telford."

Vernon got to his feet. "Howe? What do I owe this pleasure?"

Thomas Howe came into the light, smiling unpleasantly as he did so. "Tsk, tsk, Vernon." He said stopping short of the iron bars and crossing his arms. "You have been a naughty boy, haven't you? And to think, you once were one of my father's most valuable accomplices."

Vernon shrugged; willing to play the game if that was the way Howe wanted it. "Easy come, easy go, you know me."

"Yes, easy come indeed." Howe said. "The intention for your trysts with the queen was for you to impregnate her. Now, I don't know quite how much sex education you have received in your life, but the place you put it in? Well, you can't make babies through that orifice."

Vernon grinned. "Guess I was disorientated. Had one too many to drown my sorrows."

"Well, it wasn't very clever, because now you're stuck in here." Howe said. "With no way out."

Vernon shrugged again, but it was a shrug of a small boy, not a man full of swagger. He had nothing to say to that.

Howe withdrew a bottle from his coat. "Here, old man. Drown some more of those sorrows." Vernon uncorked the bottle and sniffed. It was well aged, mature ale and he gratefully took a slug.

Howe smiled at the man and couldn't help but scorn him further.

"And to think what could have awaited you had you just kept your end of the deal." Howe wasn't finished berating the man in the prison. "With an heir secured our queen would have the balance of power shifted back onto her, and we would have been one step closer to deposing that half-witted king we're forced to serve. Once the child was born healthy we could get rid of Alistair—he of course would leave behind a tragic suicide note in which he speaks for the first time about his shame at not being able to do his duty by the queen and how his wish was for her to have a child by someone of noble blood. He would name me as the father (you know I _**would**_ have offered up my services were it not for that...accident...I suffered last year) and Anora would marry me and secure my place on the throne. Finally Ferelden would be rid of those impulsive Theirin's and with a Howe in charge I could lead it in a brand new direction."Howe ceased his monologue to stare directly at Vernon, who felt nervous under the other mans scrutiny so downed the rest of the bottle in one go. "Sadly, we have had to come up with a completely new plan. Especially since we learned that elf whore Warden produced one of Alistair's heirs without telling anyone. We have sent them on a wild chase across dangerous lands from which I am certain the king will not return."

Vernon coughed suddenly—his throat felt raw. He dropped the empty bottle which rolled away against the wall and clutched at his neck. Howe laughed nastily. "Of course, we can't have you telling anyone of your part in our plan." He said watching Vernon begin to thrash about. His face went bright red and his eyes became bloodshot. Vernon opened his mouth to speak but spittle frothed down his chin and he found he could not say a word. He stared unspeaking at Howe who shook his head slowly. "You should know better than to accept a drink from a man telling you his very secret grand master plan."

Howe turned and left the dungeon, the final noises of Vernon Telford as he expired on the cold stone floor ringing in his ears like bells.

***

Saóirsè was more relentless than ever now that she had a more certain direction in mind. Even Alistair with his longer stride found it hard to keep up with her and Wynne and Leliana accepted that their place was now much further behind the two Wardens. Alistair struggled to break even with her pace and eventually he had to grasp her arm. "Saóirsè, please, you have to slow down a little or you're going to exhaust yourself." _Maker, how often am I going to be forced to repeat myself? _

Saóirsè shrugged his arm off. "I'll stop when she's found." Was all she would say on the matter.

They continued at this speed for a good few hours, Saóirsè not slowing even when Alistair could clearly see the sweat beading on her hairline and drenching her body. She was going to make herself ill at this rate but she would not be told what to do.

When she was forced to come to a reluctant stop she laid out her bedroll and collapsed on top of it leaving the others to make their camp. Wynne waved off Alistair's offers of help and told him to get some rest. He gratefully obliged, noting as he fell into sleep that due to Saoirses' pursuit they were indeed much closer to their destination.

Alistair was the first to wake and he took over the watch from Leliana. After a few moments scanning the horizon, he found his gaze drifted to Saóirsè in her sleep. Her face was tight and there was no peace in her features.

"_Saóirsè, are you alright?" Leliana calls to me. I am bent double in my armour—not the usual attire, the one especially made for formal occasions such as this—and my stomach is heaving. I have eaten nothing all day for fear of nerves, yet it seems they have caught me nonetheless. Leliana finds me and rests her cool hand on my forehead, pulling my hair back with the other. I am on my knees and she stands above me like a mother I never knew, deftly and gently tying my hair into a ponytail without my knowing it. When I am sure that my stomach has finished emptying itself I stand again. _

"_You look very pale, Saóirsè." Leliana says at the sight of me. I grimace and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand._

"_Thanks." I say wryly._

_She observes me for a long time. "It is done now." She says._

_She means that what I missed when I slunk out discreetly to throw up was the speaking of the vows between the man who broke my heart and the daughter of the man who betrayed Fereldens armies. A match made Andraste knows where. Alistair made his choice; I gave him myself in my entirety and yet he chose the woman neither of us professed to trust one jot. She has only been out of the tower one week._

_I nod and then spin around to throw up again._

_On the way to Orlais Leliana catches me clandestinely vomiting again. I try to tell her it is travel sickness, but she will not hear of it. I want to argue, but she is backed up by Zevran who is travelling with us (he claims for the experience, but he has more than once dropped comments about enjoying a threesome during dull moments in camp). My fellow rogues round on me and fire question after question at me: when was my last cycle? When did I last have intercourse? How often do I throw up? Am I finding it hard to fit into my clothes?_

_I go flame red and duck my head. Both soften. They are only asking questions that I have already answered although I try to deny the answers to myself and because they love me. I feel two sets of hands on my back and I give in to tears._

_We sit around the fire and discuss._

"_It is Alistair's." I say firstly._

"_We know that much," Leliana says softly. _

"_Does he know?" Zevran asks. My head shoots up in horror. "I take that as a no."_

"_I can't tell him." I say. "He is married."_

"_He has a right to learn the truth." Leliana points out delicately. I frown. _

"_**No**__," I say vehemently. "No-one must tell him. It is for his sake as much as mine."I go quiet for a moment and cradle my slightly rounded belly in my hands. "We didn't even know this could happen. Two Grey Wardens...he said for one to produce a child was a damn miracle. And what if...what if the babe is not healthy? Something not human? Or it should die? I cannot ask him to bear that burden."_

"_We understand, Saóirsè." Zevran says his words laden with so much tenderness. _

_They both protect me while we are in Orlais. When I sit down and do the calculations, I am already halfway through my pregnancy when we reach Val Royeaux. Both Zevran and I are stunned by its beauty and Leliana is thrilled to show us around. Before my belly becomes too much of a hindrance, we three rogues successfully exact revenge on Marjolaine and dispose of her. We make quite the team and although Zevran teases us about banding together to form a new assassin group, neither Leliana nor I are interested in doing it again. _

_In the spring my belly swells bigger and bigger and I retreat from crowds. I have sent word to the Orlesian Wardens that I intend to learn the Joining from them amongst other things but not until the summer. I do not let them know why. _

_In July when a thunderstorm breaks overhead and cracks the sky with its heavy, muggy heat I feel something else break inside me and I am suddenly leaking fluid onto the floor of my room. Zevran sends for a midwife, and then does not return until the morning. I am grateful for that._

_Leliana stays with me and the midwife as I ride an ocean of pain over and over again. I am terrified of what I am about to birth. I don't know which scenario is worse: a darkspawn tainted beast or the babe I have imagined for months, a boy who looks the spit of Alistair. Thinking of him, although I am reluctant to do so, calms me. He is my eye in this storm and focusing on the syllables of his name allows me focus to breathe. Al-is-tair..._

_I have dreamt of this boy. I do not wish to see him...a living, breathing reminder of the man who loved me and then disposed of me when he was done. I hate him, yet I want nothing more than for him to be with me right this minute._

_I kneel on the bed, one arm on Leliana and another on the Orlesian midwife and I bear down, pushing with the pushes my body is already doing. It takes a lifetime but then I feel something small and warm and wet slither out of me and onto the bed. He is here._

_I collapse back against the damp and bloody sheets and the babe is placed onto my naked body. The storm has broken overhead and we can hear rain falling, the rain we all so desperately need._

_I look at my child. It has Alistair's hair and inquisitive face, but she is a girl. The tears I cry are not expected but the reason surprises me. I am weeping with love and for what I have gained with this little person, not regret at what I have lost. I wish Alistair could be with me, but at this very moment my world is built around two people and he is not one of them._

_Suddenly she is ripped from my arms. I jump and look around—I am standing nude having just birthed my daughter, bloody and battered and the archdemon has my baby. She is held aloft in the jaws of the beast and then with one movement it throws its head back and swallows her whole. I scream and scream and scream—_

"Saóirsè!" Saóirsè leapt up and instinctively grasped at the throat of the shadow looming over her. He tried to speak, but could only manage guttural sounds. As the dream dissipated Saóirsè realised that she was strangling Alistair and she pulled her hand back at once.

"Sorry." She said. Alistair nodded his acceptance of the apology while rubbing at his neck.

"Bad dream?" he asked in a croaky voice.

"Not at first..." she tailed off shuddering at the dream. "I'm so worried about Cat."

"I know," Alistair said, not unkindly. He turned and grabbed a roll stuffed with cheese and a skein of water. "Here, you have to eat something before we go."

Saóirsè took the roll and ate it half-heartedly not really tasting it. Wynne and Leliana were still asleep and the night was still patchy with stars. Alistair watched his fellow Warden eat. Her skin seemed stretched over the bones of her face and her hair was flat and limp. It looked like she'd lost weight—probably a mixture of stress, of pushing herself too far and of not eating properly. He was beginning to get really worried about her.

She finished the roll and caught him looking. "What?"

"When was the last time you ate?" he asked. "I mean, besides that roll."

She shrugged and tried to remember, but came up with nothing.

"Saóirsè, I understand that you are desperate to find Catriona," Alistair said. "But this desperation is bordering on obsession. You have to keep your head and take care of yourself."

"And you have to stop lecturing me."Saóirsè said angrily. "I know full well I am not looking after myself properly, I know that. It doesn't matter how often I stop or eat, I _**have**_ to find Cat."

"I know you do, but you have to look after yourself, too."

"You mean like I looked after Cat?" she asked bowing her head so the words came out muffled against her chest.

"What?"

"Well, if I'd looked after her better she wouldn't' have gotten taken."

Alistair's face softened. "Oh, Saóirsè, you mustn't think like that."

She shook her head and stood up. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." She said abruptly. "Its done, let's go."She stormed off into the trees.

Alistair got to his feet, confused. "Saóirsè, what's gotten into you?" He caught up with her a few yards from the campsite. She stood with her back to Alistair. "I can't talk to you about this—you won't let me help!"

She whirled. "I don't deserve help! This is all my fault!"

"No it isn't," Alistair said. "You're just being self-pitying."

"I didn't want her!" Saóirsè shouted suddenly. "I spent the entire pregnancy hating being pregnant and wishing it would go away!"

Alistair swallowed. This was a big revelation, but far from being shocked, he was oddly pleased that she was confiding in him. "You were alone." He said simply. "And I'd just been immeasurably cruel to you. It doesn't make you a bad person that you doubted whether you wanted to have your baby."

Saóirsè didn't say a word; she just fixed him with a strange look. Alistair went over to her.

"I don't doubt that my mother was not best pleased to find herself pregnant with me." He said articulating words he had often thought but never before said. "I expect I was a nasty surprise to everyone involved, including the king. I cannot imagine what you had to go through, all those feelings, but I _**can**_ tell you what it feels like to know your birth caused huge problems for the people involve." He took her hand and she let him. "Remember, my mother died in childbirth and my father and I met only once that I recall. But I do not have any bad feelings towards either of them." Saóirsè looked up at him and Alistair cupped her face with his hands. "Cat has no such feelings. Whether she was wanted or not you have loved her from the start of her life—that much is evident. I only met her a short while ago but I already love her. I know she's most likely afraid and worried, but I'm sure that she is secure in the knowledge that her mother is coming to find her because she _**knows**_ how much you love her."

Alistair placed a small kiss on her face. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her along.

"What are you doing?" Saóirsè asked confused but allowing him to lead her.

"We're going to get our daughter back."


	15. Chapter 14

_Ok, so I've been negligent of this story. Real life got way too big for a while there and I've gone back to work as my maternity leave has ended etc...etc..._

_But I'm back and fully committed now. Have shamefully leapt ahead by miles to where I wanted to be so as to avoid the writers block wall and this story should be wrapped up soon. _

_So if you've been patiently waiting, I apologise and hope I don't disappoint..._

Chapter 14

Cat's cries went out across Ferelden; such was the power of her desperation and the strength of her delirium. To Saóirsè and Alistair it was a strong, clear sound, to the other searching Grey Wardens it was somewhat dimmer, but still piercing. They all made to follow the sound. It was a loud clamour to the darkspawn also, the ones who had broken out from the Deep Roads and they moved swiftly through the countryside, crossing three miles for every mile Cats parents made. Although neither party knew it they were in a dead heat to reach her first.

However, there was one other person who heard the cries for help and it bothered him enough to seek out his mother and speak to her about it. He had previously not known of Catrionas' existence or what connection the two shared and Cat didn't know of him either.

They shared the same birthday, although Cat was just a few hours older. Their blood both ran with darkspawn taint, although Cats was just a little bit stronger, which was how she was able to project her fear across the country to those who were sensitive for it.

They also shared the same DNA as well as certain features, for they both shared the same father.

***

Alistairs stride was now even wider than Saóirsès and his desire to find Cat just as strong. They had both been woken by her crying out to be found and his face was set with determination. Saóirsè was surprised, but grateful of this surge in dedication. They had now left Wynne and Leliana behind after the two injured women had suggested they continue on the same path but allow the Wardens to travel at their own fast pace.

Sometimes Alistair would take hold of Saóirsès' hand and she would let him. At night they lay close together and eventually Alistair had started wrapping his arms around her before they fell asleep. It seemed that the further Alistair got from the palace, the further behind he left his crown and the more like the young Grey Warden he reverted back to. At times their relationship directly echoed the times they shared on their first mission, when everything was new and a little bit magical. Looking back, Saóirsè could see that their time spent traversing Ferelden on their quest had been to the detriment of their love: their lives had been tinged with desperation to secure Fereldens future and a fear that they might not live to see that future. How she could have thought theirs would be a sustaining bond she never knew, but then they were both young and in love for the very first time. Now they were older and more worn. Saóirsè was worried, though, that sometimes Alistair's eyes lingered on her a little too long and in some moments she felt that had she stayed still long enough he would have kissed her. She was concerned for him; he couldn't fall for her again, not now. Too much had been done and said and besides he was married. Even so, Saóirsè loathed her treacherous heart which threatened to let him back in at a moment's notice. She had already slept with him back in Denerim and that had been wrong. She couldn't allow herself to slip again. And yet she let him walk holding her hand and she slept soundly in his embrace. She had to be firmer with him and herself. She had to stop giving in to the yearning she had for him.

She was right to be worried: Alistair walked deep in thought about what he had given up by turning his back on Saóirsè and how much he had regretted it_**. I love her**_, he thought several times a day and each time the thought sent a little thrill into his belly. He hated the reason why they were travelling across Ferelden now, but loved the fact that they were together. And when they found Catriona they would be a little family and so complete. The thought made him feel happier than he ever thought he could be.

***

On the evening when they finally broke out of the wooded area directly south of the coastal road, they were greeted by bright moon shining down on them from a clear sky that was warm in spite of the time. The weather was so good it belied the reason they were searching in the first place, but they were pleased to be able to continue. They turned west and headed down the road. The night before they had heard no words from Cat, just the sound of the little girl crying. They walked with a dogged determination and nothing could sway them.

Heading east along the same road was the troupe of darkspawn. Dead centre was the trio of kidnappers and their bounty, who were making camp for the final night. They had decided that during this night they would abandon the sick child by the tide and would then head on towards Lake Calenhad for a well-deserved pint at the Spoiled Princess.

A howl was heard by all of the groups as a wolf barked at the moon. Cat went very quiet suddenly, both out loud and in her mind. She sensed the overwhelming presence of the taint and it was all around her. It pressed close around her head and she felt almost suffocated by it. She stopped calling and started listening; her fever was at its highest point where it could either break or kill her.

She heard the noise of dark creatures whose minds were as one in a relentless drive to get to the mysterious cries. She felt rather than heard the love and warmth coming from the east and knew her mother was coming for her. She felt an equally strong wave of love beside her mother and knew before she saw him that her father was also there. This fact she accepted without question having always known he was not truly dead and having believed he would one day find her.

Finally she felt a fierce presence from the south that was her brother, although she did not recognise him as such. She merely felt the overwhelming knowledge that someone very powerful was coming her way and that she would know him when she saw him.

She knew before they reached her that the darkspawn would be first.

***

The ogre saw the camp first and bellowed out loud with gratification at their find. Around him the hurlocks shouted out and they all broke into a run and made for the camp. Three human men were sitting drowsily around a camp fire, but they leapt to their feet when the darkspawn beset them. One grabbed his bow and let his arrows fly, but they barely slowed the onslaught. The other two grabbed swords, but they were cruelly out numbed with four hurlocks to each man, plus the ogre. Saóirsè and Alistair heard their dying screams and felt the sense of the taint and without speaking broke into a run. Saóirsè drew her twin Dar'Misu' as she ran and without even stopping she launched herself at the ogre. He was taken by surprise as the elf landed on his chest and plunged her blades into his neck. His face froze in an expression of extreme surprise as the light faded from his eyes and he fell backwards to the ground. Even before he landed, Saóirsè had deftly leapt from his corpse and into the midst of the hurlocks.

Alistair took out one hurlock before it could turn around and then slammed Duncan's shield into another, knocking it to the ground in a daze. Before he could finish that one off, he turned and threw up his sword to block a mace that was swinging his way. The hurlock roared into his face, drenching him with foul smelly spit.

Saóirsè yelled as a blade sliced down her back and she stumbled. She reacted without thinking and turned the fall into a roll and managed to avoid the sword as it slammed into the floor where her face had been moments before. She got to her feet and jumped backwards, trying to clear a space between her and the hurlocks, but there were so many. She saw Alistair fighting off four at once and saw his face contort in pain when one succeeded in jabbing a sword into his side. She ran towards him, blind to the hurlocks that made for her, and used both Dar'Misu' in an arcing motion that beheaded the hurlock that had drawn Alistairs blood. Then she felt a blow to her shoulder and was on the ground before she knew it. She felt a blade pierce her skin and felt it slice through her arm. She screamed in pain and then felt wet blood shower down onto her, followed by the corpse of the hurlock whose sword was still in her arm. She saw Alistair yank it out for her, but then a hurlock stabbed a dagger into his back and he fell to his knees. Saóirsè tried to stand, but she couldn't make her legs move at all. Alistair pitched forward as he received a kick to the gut and they lay together for a moment. _**We're going to die**_, Saoirse thought sadly. Alistair grabbed her hand and tried to squeeze it but his eyes were clouding over and he slipped into unconsciousness. Saóirsè felt herself being rolled over and stared up into the faces of the hurlocks that had bested the Wardens. Their ugly faces were grinning down at her and she hated that this would be the last thing she would ever see. She tried to turn towards Alistair again, but she couldn't. A tear rolled from her cheek as Cats face flashed into her mind.

"Forgive me", she murmured softly.

Suddenly the hurlocks were on fire. Saóirsè frowned; a second before they had been fine, but now they were aflame. _**How odd...**_she thought as her eyes closed.

***

The hurlocks corpses were smouldering on the ground around the two Wardens, who had not received even the slightest burn. The two of them were bloodied and it would be a struggle to save their lives. They were unaware that they had been picked up and were flying though the air cradled in the claws of a large and frightening creature, much like that fateful day in Ostagar when they had been rescued from the tower of Ishal. In fact they were returning to the very same place in the Korkari Wilds where they had been taken on that day, and they were being healed of their near-fatal wounds by a powerful witch, just as Flemeth had pulled them back from the brink death.

The difference this time being that the witch in question was not Flemeth and she was tasked with healing both of the Grey Wardens along with their child, whose fever had finally broken and who was being watched over by her concerned half-brother.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15

The remains of the kidnappers camp was discovered by three parties within a matter of hours. The first to come across it were the furthest north of the search parties, led by a Grey Warden by the name of Selina. Within the hour Wynne and Leliana arrived on the same spot, and met with Selina. Finally they were joined after noon by Shale, Oghren and a small band of dwarves. The search party was diverted to scour the surrounding area, including the beach and when Wynne joined them she added her spells to the search attempt, but nothing conclusive was found. One of Saóirsès' beloved blades was lying on the road covered in blood, although there was nothing of Alistairs. They found the ravaged corpses of the kidnappers along with their dead pony and the wreckage that had been the cart. One of Catrionas boots was amongst the wood pile—the leather buckle was torn and shiny with blood also. Surrounding the devastation were the charred bodies of what had once been hurlocks and finally the enormous bulk of the ogre.

Leliana struggled with her tears as she took everything in. She wanted desperately to look for positives, but she found there was nothing matching that description. A wicked voice in the back of her mind kept telling her to give up hope as it looked as though her beloved friends had vanished. The voice wanted her to presume them as deceased, but she would not...could not...do that. Not just yet. She bent to pick up Saóirsès' stray Dar'Misu and wiped in on an unbloodied, unburned patch of grass.

Selina, who was only a few years younger than her commander, making her the same age Saóirsè had been when she was recruited, had the sorry task of saying what everyone was thinking.

"We have to return to Denerim," she said. "We have to form a new plan. Whether that be a new search or..." she looked around at the sad faces gazing back at her and trailed off. She looked at her feet.

Shale, helpful as ever, declared in a voice that sounded softer than any who knew her had ever heard her use: "It would perhaps appear that our monarch and Warden Commander have been killed."

"Naw," Oghren said gruffly. "Not the Warden. _**Either**_ Warden." He amended thinking of Alistair. "Come on Shale. Wynne, Leliana..." he looked in turn at each of his former companions. "We've seen 'em fight—a group of darkspawn this small could never have...never have..." He had to stop as a sob worked its way up his throat.

"I will send word to Zevran." Leliana said suddenly. "I wrote to him to say we were going to Denerim and he said he would make his way there, but I must warn him before he arrives." Tears began to flood her face. "He would not wish to be surprised with this news."

Wynne placed an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "We must return." She said in a shaky, but firm voice. "There is much that must be done."

***

Saóirsè, of course, had no idea that her friends were deducing at that moment that she and Alistair were gone.

She had a splitting headache, but when she checked, all her limbs were working fine. Her eyes fluttered open and she raised her head to see where she was and was startled to find herself experiencing severe déjà vu.

"What...?" she began taking in the room. Then she had a flash of memory: Alistair. Lying dead on the road beside her, his blood pooling all around him. "No!" she exclaimed, struggling to her feet.

The door creaked as it opened and Saóirsè spun to look at the women who entered.

"Ah, good, you're awake." She said in a voice that purred. Saóirsè gasped.

"Morrigan!" she shrugged off the bedclothes and went over to the witch. "You're alive. Thank the Maker."

"Of course I am alive." Morrigan said scornfully. "Why would I not be so?"

"I don't know," Saóirsè said weakly. "I looked for you after the battle and you were just gone. And when I travelled to the Korkari Wilds your hut was empty with no sign of anyone living here." Saóirsè looked around the small room. "I guess you've made a home here again."

"Circumstances forced my hand, yes." Morrigan said by way of agreement. "Mind you it is certainly much more pleasant without the old hag, Flemeth cluttering the place up."

"Don't you miss the company?" Saóirsè said, trying to push away the thought that it had been she who had ended the other woman's life at Morrigans bequest. "Don't you get lonely, living here by yourself?"

Morrigan looked puzzled. "Why would I live alone?"

Saóirsè flushed and bit her lip. She didn't like to ask; knowing Morrigan she had more likely taken up her late mothers past time of bringing strangers home rather than setting up home with one single lover. As the shock of Morrigans presence wore off, Saóirsè was reminded of her companion and daughter.

"Alistair...is he?"

"He is well." Morrigan said softly. "His injuries were more severe than yours, but he will live. He may feel stiffness in his shoulder for a while, and then again perhaps in cold weather and as he ages, but he is safe. I believe he was stirring when I left him to see to you." Morrigan cocked her head to one side. "I expect you would like to know how your child fares, as well?"

Saoirses heart lifted. "You found her? Is she alright?"

"She was in the cart out of the way of all the fighting." Morrigan explained. "She had a raging fever, but it broke in the night and she is much better now. She has eaten and is now in the room with her father."

"Thank you, Morrigan." Saóirsè said warmly, taking her hand. Morrigan frowned, but seemed grateful for the thanks.

"You are welcome." She said finally. "I expect you wish to check up on our once and future king?" Saóirsè nodded and allowed Morrigan to lead the way up a short staircase to an upper level that Saóirsè had not seen before. The stairs opened up to one large room which had two beds in one corner. Alistair was in one, Cat in the other. There was a small black haired boy on Cats bed and the two of them seemed to be playing some kind of game which involved catching the other out with a slap on the hand. Saóirsè frowned a little at the small boy wondering what the situation was with him, but the sight of her daughter filled her with joy and pushed away any other thought in her mind.

"Mamae!" Cat said bouncing from her sitting position with glee. Saóirsè smiled and swooped down to envelope Catriona in a hug.

"Oh, my baby, I've missed you so much," She said as she held her daughter tight. Tears leaked out of her eyes but her mouth was stretched into a huge smile.

"Me too, Mamae," Cat said into her mother's shoulder so her words came out slightly muffled. "I felt sick and there was no-one to tell me any stories." Saóirsè felt her heart contract at this simple statement that belied the true horror of the situation.

Saóirsè pulled back and brushed her daughter's hair out of her face. "You're safe now." She said firmly.

Alistair groaned on his bed and everyone turned to look. Morrigan tapped the little boy on the shoulder and the two headed downstairs. Saóirsè was grateful for the moment of privacy. He rubbed a hand over his face and started to sit up. Saóirsè squeezed Cats arm then got up to go over to Alistair.

He opened his eyes and found her face at once. "Thank the Maker you're alive." He said breathlessly, pulling her into his arms. "I was so certain you were dead."

Saóirsè smiled as she buried her face into his hair. They had so much to thank Morrigan for. "Cat is here." She said and stepped back so that Alistair could see. His face lit up at the sight of his daughter alive and well and Saoirses heart sang to see it. She waved Cat over.

Catriona shyly extricated herself from the bed and padded over to her parents who were sitting on the bed together. It was a wholly new sight to the little girl, but it was something she liked to see. She reached them and stood quietly before them.

Saóirsè took a deep breath. "Cat, sweetheart? This is your father." She could feel Alistair shaking beside her.

Cat looked solemnly at Saóirsè. "I know that Mamae."

"We've met before." Alistair said helpfully.

"In the market." Cat offered. Alistair nodded. Cat reached out her little hand and placed it on Alistair's cheek. She looked very seriously at him for a long moment, and then broke into a grin. "Yes," she said. "You'll be a good daddy."

Alistair and Saóirsè broke into peals of laughter, which was tinged with relieved sobs. Cat jumped up onto the bed and cuddled up to Saóirsè in her lap, holding out a hand for Alistair, which he gladly took.

***

A short while later Alistair finally took in his surroundings. "Where are we?" he asked suddenly.

"We're in the wilds," Saóirsè replied. "It seems history has repeated itself somewhat and once again we have Morrigan to thank for saving our lives."

Alistair blanched. "We have to leave. Now." Saóirsè was confused.

"What? Why?"

"We just do." He stood and looked around for his belongings. Cat and Saóirsè remained seated on his bed.

"Alistair, what's wrong?" Saóirsè asked. "I know you two never saw eye to eye, but we have her to thank for the fact that we are all alive and well. You can't treat her rudely. Not today."

"Saóirsè, please, we have to leave this minute." Alistair threw his items on the bed and was just looking for his boots when they heard steps coming up the staircase.

"I have made supper," Morrigan said as she came into the room. "There is plenty if any of you feel up to eating."

Alistair whirled and stared at Morrigan. She gazed coolly back at him. Saóirsè nudged Cat off her lap and stood.

"We would be very grateful for the meal." She said. "Wouldn't we, Alistair."

"You promised we'd never see you again." Alistair said accusingly. "You swore."

"Alistair!" Saóirsè exclaimed in shock. "Morrigan, I'm sorry—"Morrigan held up a hand.

"No, he is right." She said tiredly. "I did not keep my promise."

"Damn right," Alistair spat. "You swore you would leave Ferelden; leave my lands and leave us in peace!"

Morrigans yellow eyes narrowed. "And had I done that I would have ended up leaving you _**in pieces**_ on that road. A little gratitude would not go amiss, your highness." She sneered the title at him. Saóirsè sighed and stepped into the space between them.

"Please, don't fight now." She said. "Alistair, we should be appreciative to Morrigan as I keep saying, but we mustn't tarry too long."

"Mama?" the small boy with the messy black hair and light hazel eyes had reappeared at the top of the stairs and was looking quizzically at Morrigan.

Saóirsè took a moment to process the thought of the child referring to Morrigan as mama. It seemed such an odd sight. Morrigan put out her arm and drew the boy towards her, keeping her arm around his slight shoulders. He was taller than Cat, and thinner, but he looked to be about the same age. His little face was serious. Cat gave a small wave from the bed and he returned a tiny smile.

Alistair took one look at the boy and then his knees gave way and he sat down heavily on the bed beside Catriona, still holding his boot. He swallowed hard. Morrigan seemed unable to meet his or Saóirsès eyes.

Saóirsè was confused. "What's going on?" she asked looking from Morrigan to Alistair and back again.

Morrigan snapped her head up at this. "You mean you never told her?" she accused harshly. Alistair didn't reply.

"Told me what?" Saóirsè asked her voice sharp with suspicion.

Neither seemed inclined to answer, so she stepped forward. "Tell me _**what**_?"

Morrigan took a deep breath. "On the eve of battle Alistair and I lay together. I performed a ritual ensuring that I would become pregnant and Alistair agreed."

Saóirsè felt her body go hot then very cold. Now it was her turn to stare at the floor and shake.

"It was the reason Flemeth saved you from Ostagar in the first place." Morrigan continued. "I was not convinced of her plan for a long time, but then I came to care for you and I realised that this ritual could in fact help you."

"Help me?" Saóirsè asked incredulously. "How could something that disloyal possibly help me?"

"It was intended to save your life." Alistair said quietly. "I only agreed for that reason."

Saóirsè turned on her heel to face him. "Don't you dare try to justify this."

Morrigan made a quick decision. "Catriona? Why don't you come downstairs with me and we can have some food outside?"

Cat, her mouth very small and her eyes very wide, slid off the bed and ran to Morrigan to follow her out.

Alistair stood up. "Please listen to me Saóirsè." He said. "I really did do it for you."

"Don't." She said her voice shaking with fury. "Don't even speak to me."

Alistair stood up from the bed and strode over to her. She couldn't look at him, but she pushed his hands away when he reached for her. He just took hold of her wrists and tried to turn her around to face him. Saóirsè couldn't stop him from pulling her around but she fixed her gaze on the floor and refused to look at his face.

"Saóirsè, please listen to me," he said in a low, urgent voice. "You said you overheard Morrigan trying to persuade me to do this, but you can't possibly have heard her reasons for it. What she was proposing was a ritual that would spare your life if you had to be the one to strike the Archdemon. She told me that if we did this ritual and all it ... entailed... then when the demon was killed its energy would go into the child she would be carrying. You would have been completely unharmed." She still wouldn't look at him and she was struggling to free herself from his grip, but he held firm. "I couldn't do it...I couldn't sit behind and wait for the news of your death, Saóirsè. I couldn't. I thought there was nothing I could do, but then Morrigan offered me this one solution and I had to agree. It was for you."

At these words Saóirsè finally stared at him, her eyes brimming with hot, angry tears. "I bet it was." She snarled. "I bet you thought of me the whole time?"

"I did!" Alistair insisted vehemently. "Truly I did. Do you think I could ever have wanted Morrigan?"

"I think you got a taste for sex," Saóirsè bit back heatedly. "Let's face it, when we met you were some innocent Chantry virgin, and now?" she laughed in an ugly way. "Well, let's just say you've put it about just a little bit."

Alistair coloured; partly in shame and partly in anger. "Don't be like this Saóirsè, you're just being childish."

She laughed again, a hollow sound. "That's rich!" Saóirsè pulled her arms again, but he would not release her. She felt the anger swill around in her veins in her blood. It made her feel heady and a little drunk; drunk on rage. "And you know what else? I was lying when I told you I've never lain with anyone but you." She leaned closer towards him. "I slept with Zevran when we were travelling."

That hurt. That was like a punch to the stomach for Alistair. He finally let go of her hands and dropped his arms to his sides. Saóirsè stood still and observed him, momentarily shocked at her words and the effect they were having on Alistair.

"I see." Alistair said quietly. "Well, I can't say that news fills me with joy, but I guess I can't complain."

"But you want to." Saóirsè said cruelly. "You hypocrite: you got to leave me when you were done with me and sleep with someone you profess to hate, but Maker forbid I should spend the night with someone I had a connection with."

Alistair heard the words seemingly from a long distance. He was still struggling to process the news Saóirsè had decided to impart on him. He felt numb. He could see the hypocrisy of it; what was he expecting that Saóirsè lived the remainder of her life as a cloistered sister? Yes, came the reply from the deep dark places of his heart. He closed his eyes, but was immediately subjected to his mind portraying a visceral image of the two elves writhing naked together. He shook his head to clear the image, but more came, accompanied by the noises Saóirsè would make when in the throes of passion. Noises he previously thought only he had ever heard. Zevran would have seen the rose tattoo before him, the man it was intended to please. He would have been the first to lay with her following the birth of their—of Saóirsè and Alistairs—child. His heart thumped morosely and even as Saóirsè began to say something else to him, he grabbed his sword and shield and slowly descended the stairs.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N this was going to be a longer chapter with more happening in it, but I feel its right to stop where it ends, so apologies for the shortness! Thanks as ever for you lovely reviewers--reading them makes my day! _

_-------------_

Chapter 16

Morrigan looked up as Saóirsè came down the stairs. The children had finished their small portions of stew and Catriona looked over at her mother with her mouth pressed into a small moue. Saóirsè walked over to Morrigan.

"Where did he go?" she asked flatly.

"Out," Morrigan replied carefully. "I think he mumbled something about needing some time to himself. I'm sure he will be back soon."

Saóirsè nodded then forced herself to meet Morrigans gaze. "We need to talk." Morrigan sighed and turned to her son.

"Connor, come here." She held out her hand for the small boy and he slowly came over to her. Morrigan stood him before her and rested her hands on his shoulders, either side of his neck. "Saóirsè, this is my son, Connor." She said. "Connor, this is Saóirsè, the Grey Warden I told you about."

Connor considered the elf's face for a moment then stuck out his small hand. Saóirsè couldn't help but bark out a laugh. As she shook his hand she asked Morrigan: "Where did he pick that habit up? It can't have been from you."

Even Morrigan had to smile as the two women recalled the conversation they had had so many years ago regarding the strange ways of human interaction. "I have no idea." Morrigan said. "He is a strange little boy, but he has taught me so much about caring for someone other than oneself."

Saóirsè softened as she took in the loving expression on Morrigans face. "You have changed."

"As have you, my friend."

Saóirsè sighed heavily. The fight had drained from her, and truthfully she could not bring herself to place the blame for her hurt with the witch. It was Alistair who had betrayed her, by sleeping with another woman so soon after breaking her heart, never mind his good intentions. She gestured to her daughter who came running to her and slipped a hand around her mother's legs.

"I take it you've already met Catriona?" she asked the dark haired women and child opposite her.

"Yes." Morrigan said. "She is quite a charming little thing. She reminds me of you in many ways, yet she has the odd Alistair likeness about her. I have to say I find it far sweeter in Catrionas character than in her fathers, yet I feel I am somewhat more tolerant these days than when I was younger and more hot-headed."

"How did you know where to find us?" Saóirsè asked. Morrigan gestured for them all to sit down around the table and the others complied.

"My son is quite extraordinary." Morrigan began in a voice filled with pride. "At only 3 years old he has already surpassed my schooling in the magical arts when I was his age. He can already manage to shape shift into a wolf and a raven and his mastery of the elements is astonishing." Morrigan smiled at her boy who was listening quietly. "I do not say this to brag...much. Flemeth wanted so much to have an Old God child—it became something of an obsession for her. When it transpired that a Blight had arisen and with it the ubiquitous arch demon she became a woman possessed, if you will pardon the pun. She was near frantic to reach you and Alistair when she realised the potential such an investment would be worth, although she probably appeared to show no such burning desire when you met. I have to say that at the time I expressed a rather pompous opinion that there was no need to have saved you, which I feel nothing but shame for now. I merely couldn't see the need for saving a female Warden, but Flemeth insisted two Wardens were better for surviving a Blight than one.

"When you and Alistair first started to fawn over one another I was both nauseated and concerned—I felt that any romantic assignations betwixt the two of you would only make my task that more difficult. And then as things progressed and you showed yourself to be a true ally to me by assisting my gaining access to Flemeths grimoire and by teaching me about friendship I found myself loathing myself for agreeing to the task. When Flemeth was killed I felt truly free; released from the burden I had agreed to and I began to wonder what life would be like if we should win. What it might be like to remain your companion had you decided to travel. But every thought I had on the matter always brought me around to the terrible truth that you might not survive the battle with the demon. When that fool—" This was said with weary exasperation rather than the vitriol Saóirsè remembered Morrigans voice to drip with any time she was forced to mention Alistair—"ended things with you and you refused to allow him at the final battle I knew what I had to do. I could not lose you." Morrigans voice cracked at this. "At least I could not bear the thought of a world without you: I knew I would lose your friendship, but that paled in comparison to your dying. So I approached Alistair with my offer..."

"_Its revolting and its out of the question. I won't do it. I can't," Alistair snarled and turned his back on me. I took a deep breath and walked over to him, laying my hand on his arm. I felt dirty just touching him, but I steeled myself against the revulsion._

"_Alistair," I purred. "You have to listen to reason." I stepped around to face him and looked up into his hard eyes. "The woman you love is readying herself for battle in the morning. A battle she can never come back alive from. Do you really want to stay here and wait for her body to be brought back to you in a box?"_

_His eyes filled with tears but he looked away from me. I had found the weak spot and I had to apply just the right amount of pressure to it. "She is a noble woman, despite her birthright. She is a better person than I and a much better person than you. She has been thrust into a cruel new world far removed from any she has ever known and she has fought for a country that has enslaved and brutalised her people for many years. Yet she fights on and she does it for you. This choice to sacrifice herself stems from her love for you—you must see that."_

"_Morrigan..." he said hesitantly. "Don't do this...don't be so callous."_

"_What is callous about this?" I asked hotly. "From where I am standing we both get what we want out of this. I get the Old God baby I desire and you get to sleep soundly tonight knowing that your beloved will return from battle alive and triumphant."_

_He sat down on his bed looking thoroughly dejected. When he looked up and met my gaze his eyes were void of emotion. He spoke with a hollow voice: "You can guarantee Saóirsè will survive the killing of the arch demon."_

"_That I most certainly can," I said sitting beside him and placing my hand on his leg. I felt his flesh shudder at my touch. "Once I perform this ritual and then you, well, add your performance, you can rest safe in the knowledge that you have saved you love."_

"_And what of the child?" Alistair asked. "What if you should return one day to claim the throne with your bastard child?" _

"_I assure you I want nothing to do with the ruling of this pitiful country." I said with disdain. "You can sit pretty on your gilded throne and know I shall never return. I shall leave and you will never see me again. I promise you that."_

_Alistair looked at the floor as he asked me to do the ritual and he would wait there for his role. I couldn't help but smile at my victory._

Saóirsè listened to the tale in silence absorbing every last word. Finally she seemed to drag herself from the deep pit she felt she was sitting in and spoke. "So Connor is..."

"Ah," Morrigan said squeezing Connors arm. "Now therein lays the twist."

Saóirsè frowned. "What do you mean?"

Morrigan leaned forwards. "Well now, how was I to know that you yourself were also pregnant during the final battle? Of course had I known I have no idea how I would have handled it...kept you from the battle some way perhaps? Any road, it doesn't matter now. What's done is done and cannot be changed."

"Morrigan I don't understand." Saóirsè said completely confused.

"When the blow struck the arch demon, its energy sought out the most powerful Warden child in the vicinity. As the offspring of two rather than one Warden, dear Cat was the most alluring vessel available."

Saóirsè felt the bottom drop out of her world. She tried to speak but her mouth was dry. She wet her lips and tried again. "What are you saying?"

Morrigan smiled sadly. "You should not worry. Thanks to my ritual Connor did draw a lot of the energy into himself. But your daughter got the lions share, as it were."

Saóirsè looked into her baby's face. Cat's inquisitive eyes stared back. Saóirsè pulled her towards her and wrapped an arm around her. "What does this mean?"

"It is quite unprecedented," Morrigan said, "as I'm sure you can ascertain for yourself. But I do not think you need worry. The reason I knew where to find you was that Connor heard Catriona crying for help and led me to her. Their connection is what saved all of your lives."

"I heard her, too."Saóirsè admitted. "As did Alistair."

"I expect any other Grey Wardens would have heard her, too." Morrigan said. "The taint runs in our children's blood and makes these connections available. They are also able to hear and feel the darkspawn in a stronger way than you Wardens can. You must be wary of that." Morrigan suddenly grasped Saóirsès' hand in hers. "Please do not worry overly about your child. This energy that became absorbed into her body does not make her evil or a demon. If anything it has probably served to lengthen her life. Tell me you have not worried what twice the dosage of the taint would do to Cats lifespan."

The haunted look in Saóirsès' face confirmed Morrigans words. "Well now you need not fear. The energy should help Cat live to a normal age."

Saóirsè couldn't help but feel buoyed by that news, in spite of the shock the rest of the details prompted.

"But she will be powerful and great because of it." Morrigan said solemnly. "Just as my boy will be powerful and great. And I will help you in any way I can...that is, if you should wish for my assistance..."

Saóirsè looked at the woman sat across from her. Morrigans face was open and worried and there was something like hope in there. "You've changed." She said again. Morrigan smiled wryly and shrugged trying to appear casual. "I will need to digest this news for a while. But thank you for explaining things to me." She looked towards the door. "Alistair still has not returned. May I trouble you to watch Cat for me for a short while, so that I might find him? This will be hard for him to take and I have already hurt him once today..."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: here's what was going to be the second half of that chapter, and again its short but it felt right to me..._

_I've reached a point where I have about 3 or 4 different endings that I could head towards so there may be a slight delay in posting while I think about it, but I promise it won't be as bad as last time!!!_

Chapter 17

As it turned out Alistair had not wandered far from the little hut and so was easy to find. Saóirsè walked over to him with a heavy heart, worn down with the news she had to impart on him now. She and Morrigan had talked a little while longer about Morrigans theories on the subject of their exceptional children and Saóirsè had no idea what he might say. As she drew up closer to him he turned around to look at her. She could see his red-rimmed eyes and suspected that he had been crying. Something they were both doing far too much of recently in her opinion.

Saóirsè reached Alistair but before she could speak, he spoke first.

"I've been doing some thinking." He said gravely.

"As have I." Saóirsè replied. "Alistair— "

"I forgive you." Alistair said magnanimously. Saóirsè was bemused.

"Forgive me? Whatever for?"

"For sleeping with Zevran." He explained.

Saóirsè gaped at him. Her thoughts leapt from telling him about Cat to anger at once. "Don't be so damn patronising!" she exclaimed. "You can't forgive me for something I offered no apology for!"

Alistair took a calming breath and forced his voice to remain on one level. "Nevertheless I forgive you for your indiscretion."

Saóirsè slapped him. The sound reverberated across the swamp. Alistair was clearly gritting his teeth now, but he tried manfully to pretend that slap had not happened.

"What are you talking about?" Saóirsè asked, obviously confused. "What indiscretion?"

"Sleeping with Zevran during our travels." Alistair said in a voice that revealed the struggle he was having staying composed.

Saóirsè frowned again and then broke out into a strangled laugh. It was Alistairs turn to frown now. "You stupid man," she said wiping at her eyes. "I said 'when we were travelling' so naturally you assumed the only we I meant were you and I. I meant while _**Zevran and I**_ were travelling. You were married by then and we, that is you and me, were not together. I did absolutely nothing wrong and therefore I reject your apology."

The relief washed over Alistairs face, although he was still unhappy with the idea. Even so he drew himself up. "There's more." He said.

"More forgiveness for things I never did?" Saóirsè asked sarcastically. Alistair suddenly dropped onto his knees before her and took her hand. She was so surprised she just let him.

"Marry me." He said. Saóirsè was taken aback.

"I can't marry you, you fool," she yelped. "You're already married."

"I know," he said in a rush from his position kneeling by her. "But it's what I want. I want you and me and Catriona to become a family, a real family. The kind neither of us had when we were small. Don't you want that as well?" his expression was so hopeful that Saoirses heart ached a little bit for him. She tugged him to his feet.

"Get up." She said. He complied. "I can't marry you and you know it. This isn't a real proposal, it's a farce. The reasons why we couldn't be together in the first place—"

"They don't exist anymore!"Alistair said quickly. "Clearly Grey Wardens can have children together—Cat is living proof of that—and we have secured an heir to the throne. And thanks to the work that has been done regarding the Dalish and the city elves, I do not think it would be the most unreasonable thing to ask for a Dalish queen. Arl Eamon would probably think I was being very political, but I don't even care what he thinks." All his words were spewing forth in a heady rush. "I don't care at all. I shouldn't have back then but I was so bewildered by everything, which I know is no excuse, but there it is. I need you and my daughter in my life for now and forever. I've never been happier."

Saóirsè gently extricated her hand from his grip. His eyes were bright and optimistic and she felt terrible. "Alistair, it's never going to happen. You _**are**_ married and there's nothing we can do about that fact. You can be in Cats life, however. I see now that I was being totally selfish by keeping her from you and I am truly sorry for the choice I made. Please know that I was honestly trying to think of her needs. But as for us...well, 'us' doesn't exist anymore." She looked away over the bog lands. "Truthfully I don't think there ever was really anything to our brief tryst."

"Don't say that," Alistair implored softly. "Please don't say you regret what we had."

"I don't think we had anything noteworthy." Saóirsè said as kindly as she could. "The circumstances were so out of this world at the time and we were constantly an inch from danger and death. It's only natural that we came to rely on each other for comfort and in all the confusion I suppose it was to be expected that we read into it more than there was. But can you honestly with your hand on your heart that there was anything of substance there?"

"Yes," Alistair insisted fiercely. "There was. I loved you. I still do, with such feeling that there is no room for anyone else. There never will be anyone else. Every day of my life since we parted I have regretted my actions after the Landsmeet. Every single day. I am so miserable and unhappy when you're gone."

"You are miserable because you are stuck in a loveless political marriage." Saóirsè argued sensibly. "I am merely a distraction from that and a living memory of a crazy, magical time together. I can't fix any of the problems you have. You place too much of a burden on me and place me too high on a pedestal. I am not what you want me to be."

"You are everything I could ever want you to be." Alistair said tears springing to his eyes and emotion clouding his voice. "Don't walk away from me now. Please."

Saóirsè couldn't bear his unhappiness. She stepped towards him and hugged him tightly. She was not wearing her boots and so she felt very tiny compared to his human height and build. He held her close and she felt his body shake with tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't summon the energy to explain about Cat so she shut it again and gave in to silence.

***

It was a weary and downtrodden group who walked through Denerims gates carrying the few items they had salvaged from the site of devastation. Oghren and Shale had chosen to travel with the party and so were met with strange looks as they walked the streets up to the palace. Arl Eamon acting as regent on Alistairs final orders heard the news that the party had returned so he rushed to the main entrance to greet them, expecting his king back safe and sound. What he saw was a motley crew of companions, much like the stragglers who had come to Redcliffe so many years ago to save his village and family from destruction. The largest difference from that group to this one was that Saóirsè and Alistair had led a group of buoyant rebels, whereas Selinas group were dejected and mournful.

"What has occurred?" he asked, fearful of the response. Selina stepped forward with Leliana who was still cradling Saóirsè' blade.

"We have bad news, Arl Eamon." She said heavily. "We discovered a place of great fighting, but no sign that we could recognise of the king nor of the Warden Commander. We scoured the surrounding location for days, but we were forced to conclude that they have passed."

"No..." Eamon said shaking his head. The first image that flashed into his mind was not of the kind who had departed only a week hence, but of the little boy with the trusting eyes who had cried when Eamon insisted he be sent to the Chantry. A host of emotions washed over him. "It cannot be."

"I'm afraid it is so." Wynne said grimly.

"What is this?" A voice made them all turn. Anora had appeared in the doorway. For a moment no-one spoke, then the queen gestured towards Leliana. "What is that? The Wardens weapon?"

The silence was condemning and confirmed what she suspected. "She is not...surely not dead?" Anora asked, sure that this was some mistake. Then Alistair popped into her head. "What of my husband?" she asked, her heart beating fast. "What of the king?"

Again nobody could say a word: instead they all they could seem to do was to stare at the floor. Anora clasped her hand to her mouth, suddenly transported back to the day she was to learn that her first husband, Kind Cailan, had died in Ostagar as a result of her father's tactics. The pain of that day hit her again like a tidal wave and she physically staggered backwards. No-one went to her aid. No-one seemed able to move.

"They are all...?" she asked aloud to no-one in particular. "The whole family..."

Eamon looked up at her words, missing the significance of them. "Of course, I had forgotten about the child."

Leliana burst into noisy tears at this, dropping Saóirsè' sword with a loud clatter than rang out in the silent hall. Wynne went over to her and tried to shush her whilst holding back her own sobs. Oghren was sniffing beside Shale and rubbing his eyes fitfully with a grubby fist.

Arl Eamon forced himself back together. "Very well. We must declare this unhappy news to the nation and announce a state of national mourning. Come now, there is much to be done."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18

Anora sat on alone in the council room. Eamon was collecting documents and sending word to other high up advisers before the emergency meeting could commence and Anora was waiting for them. Her stomach was turning and her mind flittered about roaming from one emotion to another, so that even though she sat quite still she felt as though she were being flung through the air. It was most unnerving and she had no clue at all when or where she might land.

She did not hear the door open or close, nor did she hear the heavy footsteps that made their way towards her. She only looked up once the man spoke.

"Greetings, my lady," Thomas Howe pulled out a chair to sit adjacent to her. His mouth was stretched into a grin than looked to Anora as ugly as a gash across his face.

"Thomas..." Anora said wearily. "I take it you've heard."

"Oh yes," he said his eyes glinting with pleasure. Anora looked away from him; his joy was too evident and too abrasive in the face of her grief. "Are you not pleased, my lady? Not only is the bastard offspring dead, but as an added bonus the king and Warden are no longer able to stand in our way either!"

Anora shuddered. "You do realise you are talking about a 3 year old child?" she asked thornily.

He shrugged. "A threats a threat." He simply stated.

"I cannot believe they're gone. They're just... gone." She turned and gazed up at the portrait made of Alistair after his coronation, which he had always hated being hung in the council room. She remembered hearing him complain that it was distracting in sessions as he always felt himself catching the eye of 'the pillock in the furry robes'. She hid a sad smile at the memory.

Thomas was oblivious to any of Anora's discomfort. "Thank the Maker that bastard is finally off the throne. Finally we can get some truly great blood ruling Ferelden."

Anora shook her head dumbly. Thomas frowned. "What?" he said. "Don't try to tell me that you're backing out of our deal? You will marry me and reinstate the Howe name to glory and riches!"

"It won't work like that, Thomas," Anora tried to explain. "I am not of noble enough blood and my father's name stands for betrayal and cowardice, as does yours. The throne will go to Eamon—he was Cailans uncle and so the closest related bloodline, albeit not a Theirin. He has a son, although I believe he is studying at the Circle of Magi so won't be eligible for the throne. It will fall to Arl Teagan to produce an heir. I think his wife is pregnant so we had better hope for a healthy babe." She drifted off in thought. Had she been able to produce an heir herself, then she would have been able to stay on in her capacity as queen while the baby grew up and learned how to rule. That basic female thing: motherhood had eluded her time and time again and she was beginning to wonder if the Maker hadn't had a hand in it. She had merrily requested the death of a small innocent child with batting an eyelid. Clearly this was a failing by a woman hoping to be a mother herself one day.

Her eyes clouded briefly. Nobody but she knew of the child she had once upon a time carried inside her. The pregnancy had not progressed very far, only a few months before she had lost the babe. She always remembered that day—the news arrived that Cailan had been killed and the rumours of her father's involvement with his death came all too suddenly and only hours later she had started bleeding so much that she thought she was dying. She had been waiting for Cailans return to announce the news to him. He had never known about his child. She often wondered if telling him would have made him more cautious about his own safety instead of chasing glory like a knight out of a tale. Would he have listened to her father's advice and preserved his own life? Would her baby have survived had she avoided the shock of Cailans death?

And now there was another baby's blood on her hands.

Anora forced herself to return to the present. Thomas was staring daggers at her. "What do you mean it won't work like that?" he spat angrily. "You are the bloody queen: make it work!"

"I can't," Anora said helplessly. She felt quite free all at once. It was as if she could no longer recall why she had been so desperate to rule Ferelden. Of course, Anora loved her country and wanted to do right by her, but the relief at no longer being able to fight for her title surprised her. Ferelden had sucked her dry and she felt she had nothing left to give.

Anora smiled: she would not be able to remain queen but perhaps she would be permitted to walk free and live out the remainder of her days by her own reckoning. That had never been an option for her before: she had been promised as Cailans wife to be at only a few hours old. Perhaps she could travel and see a bit more of the world.

Maybe even seek out some atonement.

"You aren't listening, Anora," Thomas said raising his voice. It was the first time he had called her by her name rather than a title and it was that rather than the increased volume that made her look at him. "All that we have done—all that _**I**_ have done cannot be for nothing! I won't stand for it!"

"I can't do anything to help you, Thomas." She said softly. "I'm no longer the queen for I have no king. I'm just a girl."

Thomas grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. Her calm dissipated instantly and real fear crept in instead. "Thomas, you are frightening me."

He leaned in close and she could suddenly see just how like his late father he truly was. "I will not forget this, Anora Mac Tir. And you will live to regret this."

He thrust her back into her chair and whirled away, storming out of the room only moments before Eamon re-entered with his men. He took one look at Anora's face and went over to her.

"My lady, this might be too difficult to hear right now," he said gently. "Perhaps you would rather wait until it's over?"

"No, thank you Eamon," she said sounding shaky, but determined. "And there is no need for titles: my name is Anora."

***

Zevran Arainai strode along the cobbled streets of the market district until he reached the destination he was heading for: Marjolaines old hideout and Lelianas and Saóirsès Denerim home. He knocked at the door three times and waited in vain for a response. He tried again but there still came no reply. _**Ah well**_, he thought to himself, _**it is a beautiful afternoon to while away in the presence of fine liquor and perhaps finer women. **_He was in too good a mood to grumble that neither of his friends were there to receive his visit. He turned and walked back towards the market centre.

The sun was shining and the day was fine. Zevran smiled at passers-by as he gleefully stepped towards the wares on display. He didn't have a care in the world and was blissfully unaware that in mere moments his mood was to change completely.

As he passed by the palace, he noticed a crowd gathering beside it. There was a small dais by the gates and a man Zevran recognised as Eamon Guerrin was climbing atop it. The crowds were busy murmuring, but they were silenced immediately by Eamon calling for quiet. Zevran wandered over intrigued, especially when he noticed Wynne was standing just behind the dais. As he got closer and Eamon began addressing the crowd he saw that Leliana, Oghren and Shale standing further behind Wynne. His heart began to beat very fast. Something was wrong. He turned to gaze up at Eamon and listened in earnest to his words.

"...and so it is my sorry duty to impart the sad news to you all that our king, Alistair Theirin, has been killed in combat." Eamon paused as the crowd began to gasp and some women even wailed in horror: Alistair was a popular king. Zevrans own mouth hung open in shock. That was big news to digest, but Eamon wasn't finished talking.

"It has been decided that I shall remain as regent for the interim as it was his majesty's final command to me." Eamon swallowed audibly. "Also present at the time of our king's death was Fereldens Grey Warden Commander, Saóirsè Mahariel." Zevrans heart stopped beating and his entire body tensed. "I am sorry to say that we fear she has also died."

Someone screamed no and it was only when he saw Leliana running towards him that Zevran realised it had been his voice yelling. He felt pain on his knees and saw that he had fallen to the ground. Leliana swept him up into her arms and she held onto him tightly as he shouted and bawled at the horror, grief and unfairness of the news.

Leliana spoke softly to him the whole time, often slipping into her native tongue but that was no matter—it was the gentle, soothing noises that Zevran was hearing rather than the actual words. After a while he felt his body go weak and could no longer summon the strength to weep. He collapsed against Leliana and then felt strong arms haul him to his feet. He saw that Oghren and Shale had pulled him upright and Wynne was gazing unhappily at him. Oghren tugged and Zevran found his feet followed the group even without his commanding them to.

"Let's get you into the palace, Zevran," Wynne said in her calming tones.

"I'm so sorry you had to hear it this way," Leliana apologised, her eyes brimming with tears.

Zevran said nothing. He felt like his heart had splintered into pieces and he was concentrating on trying to feel something with the broken organ.

***

"We cannot stay any longer," Saóirsè said to Morrigan the next morning over breakfast. "Alistair needs to return to his duties and I have a young elf I need to initiate into the Wardens. Poor lad, he must feel like I have forgotten all about him."

"Could I help speed your journey I would," Morrigan said. "But as it stands I cannot. I have packed a tent for you three along with enough provisions to last you a fortnight. Connor and I will escort you from the wilds, but then we must return."

"Thank you Morrigan," Alistair said suddenly. "You have helped us out a great deal."

Saóirsè froze, both shocked at Alistair's kind gratitude and nervous that Morrigan would retort with some sarcastic comment.

In fact Morrigan merely not and mumbled 'you're welcome', then excused herself from the room. Saóirsè raised her eyebrows at Alistair who avoided her gaze, no doubt feeling a little petulant that he had changed his mind about Morrigan so dramatically. He had taken the news of Catrionas unique gifts very well considering emotionally wrought he was at the time, but things had settled into an easy equilibrium between Alistair and Saóirsè. That being said, she was not overly thrilled to share such a long journey on foot with only him as a companion.

The three adults and two children assembled before the hut and Saóirsè checked that they had everything they needed. Her leather armour had been torn badly across her back and had been stitched back together in a rudimentary fashion. It would have to suffice for the travel back. She had lost one blade and her left hand had felt naked without it, so Morrigan had found a darkspawn dagger which Saóirsè had been grateful to receive. Alistairs armour had been too badly damaged for him to wear it again. Had there been a smith nearby he most likely could have fixed it, but there was no such person, so Alistair was dressed in simple everyday clothes. He still had his sword, however, along with Duncan's shield which, Saóirsè guessed, was a big part of the newfound tolerance of the witch who had ensured to retrieve it from the scene of fighting. Catrionas old clothes had been stiff with dried sweat and dirt from not being able to change or wash in days, so Morrigan had quickly stitched together a tunic and breeches for her and found her some old boots that Connor had outgrown (his feet being a good few inches larger than Cats).

The trip through the wilds was uneventful and as they reached the borders they found themselves in the Ostagar ruins.

"I've been meaning to rebuild these," Alistair said on their arrival. "I would see Ostagar returned to its former glory and I would erect a monument to those who died here. But rebuilding Denerim, Redcliffe and Lothering took precedence."

"I think that would be a brilliant idea," Saóirsè said.

"The wilds are mostly empty of evil now," Morrigan said carefully. "We have not seen a single darkspawn since the Blight was ended. If I would be so bold, I would suggest that a great city could be built on this sight, rather than a military base. I think your subjects would relish the thought of a new jewel in Fereldens crown." She shrugged. "I do not plan on tarrying in the wilds for very long now that the three of you have departed."

Saóirsè looked to Alistair who was seriously considering it. "I think that would be a good idea." He admitted finally and then cast a sly look at Morrigan. "We could have a pub here called the Witches Swoop."

Morrigan rolled her eyes at Alistair and addressed her son. "Come now Connor, the king is attempting humour so we had best made tracks before our sides split from laughter."

"Thank you again Morrigan," Saóirsè said. "I'm going to hug you now, so brace yourself."

Before Morrigan could protest the elf wrapped her arms around the witch who was too surprised to move. "There, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Morrigan was flustered, but Saoirse could see that she was not angry or upset by the affection.

"Farewell, Saóirsè." She said eventually. "Farewell, Alistair. And farewell to you, little Cat. You will do great things one day, you mark my words."

Cat preened at the compliment and waved as the witch and her son turned and walked away. As they walked they both performed some quick magic and then they were a wolf and a cub who turned and looked back once before breaking into runs and bounding from sight, although their barks and yelps could be heard in the distance.

Saóirsè and Alistair looked at each other.

"Well," Alistair said. "Shall we?"


	20. Chapter 20

_Oh God, another huge gap between updates, sorry! Still I've dreamt the finale and I'm marching us there quick pace! I'm fully focussed on this and I will get us there very soon I promise. I quite like this chapter so I look forward to hearing if you all like it too....._

The journey from the ruined city fortress of Ostagar to the bustling township of New Lothering took longer than expected given that both the adults in the small party were still somewhat wounded and they were supporting a small child along the way. Said small child had energy spikes that came in quick bursts that saw her running circles around her parents, routinely stopping to explore the landscape and pick small posies of the sweet yellow flowers that grew along the road. At first Saóirsè had tried to explain to Catriona that if she spent all her energy on running around madly that she would be too tired to carry on for long, but after realising her warnings were falling on deaf ears she simply enjoyed watching Cat frolic and felt glad that she could share the task of carrying the child when exhaustion hit with Alistair.

The journey from the first location to the latter ought to have taken the two Wardens a mere three days, yet with Catriona they were only just half way there by the third day. That night as they pitched their two small tents while Cat chased fireflies, Alistairs hand brushed Saóirsès' when he reached for the mallet. She blushed hotly and looked away. When Cat fell asleep on Saóirsès' lap after the sun set, Alistair looked over and caught her watching him. This time they both blushed. In the morning Alistair woke last and he crawled out of his tent to be greeted by the sight of his daughter and her mother playing a simple game involving patting their hands together at regular intervals and chanting some Dalish words in rhythm with each other. They were both wearing crowns of daisies in their hair and they were laughing. Alistair crouched, frozen in time at this perfect sight before him. During his travels he had seen plenty of splendour and wondrous sites. The sojourn into the ruined temple near Haven to find Andrastes ashes had been magnificent in particular; the halls were majestic even in their state of decay and every surface was coated in snow and ice, making them glisten. Orzammar, too, was beautiful in its own way; all hard edges and geometric designs as one huge display of centuries of skilled artisans working on the stone. However, Alistair knew he had never seen true perfection until this moment. For the longest time he did not even breathe, afraid to make the image vanish by the tiniest movement. Then the magic broke as Cat glanced over at him and moved away from her mother to go to him, chattering noisily about breakfast. He gathered there was cheese involved.

As they drew closer to New Lothering, Saóirsès' nerves were getting frayed. The sheer amount of minuscule, seemingly insignificant moments between her and Alistair were on the rise and each one shattered her insides just a little bit. She was determined to remain strong, both for her sake and Catrionas but she felt somewhat as if their journey were a trip outside of time itself, when they could almost, just almost, pretend that they were a real family, with no connections to the rest of the world. It was a perfect fantasy, but it was a fantasy after all and she would not let herself forget that. Could not.

The night they arrived at the town, it was raining heavily. The day had been overcast and right after dusk the heavens had opened and released the contents of those black clouds upon them, making the night even darker than normal. Morrigan had packed for them some cloaks with cowls that had been treated with wax to allow the rain to flow off it and keep them dry. Catriona was practically asleep where she stood, so Saóirsè led the way to the local inn (on the site that had formerly been Danes Refuge) while Alistair picked up Cat and snuggled her beneath his cloak to protect her little tired face from the rain. Saóirsè pushed open the door and as Alistair sat at the nearest table still holding Cat who had fallen asleep as soon as he'd taken her into his arms, Saóirsè headed for the bar. She left her hood up as she approached, wary of dowsing the entire room in the liquid gathered on its waxen surface. She noted as she walked that the room was sombre and most of the patrons wore at least one item of black attire. She was puzzled, but the barkeep came over to her and she pushed her bewilderment aside.

"What can I do for you, traveller?" he asked gruffly.

"A room for the night if you've one to spare," Saóirsè explained. "We have plenty of coin to pay, but my companion and I are weary in the extreme."

"Right, well, it does so happen that we have a free room." He explained. "It is the most expensive one..." he trailed off apologetically.

"No matter," Saóirsè said, withdrawing her purse. "We'll take it."

The money exchanged hands and Saóirsè ordered for a tray of bread, cheese and warm tea. She handed the key to Alistair and told him to go on up and put Cat to bed and she would join him in a moment. He did not question her as he was eager to get Cat into a dry, warm bed and out of the cold.

Saóirsè sat at a small table by window while she waited for her food and took in the quiet mood of the patrons. When her food arrived, she could no longer hold back her questions.

"Has something befallen the town?" she asked the barmaid with great concern, "Everyone seems so bleak that I couldn't help but wonder."

The barmaid seemed surprised at Saóirsès' ignorance. "Have you been travelling long, miss?" she asked, to which Saóirsè nodded. It was easier to explain that way. "We received news over a fortnight ago, miss, to the unhappy tune of the death of our monarch."

Saóirsè frowned at once. "What?"

"King Alistair, miss," the barmaid insisted sadly. "He's been killed on the road. We're in a state of mourning."

Saóirsè opened her mouth but no sound came out. She blindly grabbed the tray of food and drinks the barmaid had brought and headed for the stairs.

Alistair watched Catrionas face as she slept. She looked so peaceful and tranquil. It was remarkable really, that she had been through so much in recent weeks yet she took everything in her stride. He slipped from her bedroom into the adjoining lounge area (that was what made this particular room so much more expensive than the simpler bedrooms it shared a corridor with) and closed the door behind him. He had barely sat down before he heard a knock at the door. It was Saóirsè with sustenance. She handed over the food and removed her clock with haste.

"You're dead."

"I beg your pardon?" Alistair asked as he took a long sip of his tea, grateful for the liquid warmth that spread through him. Saóirsè had a very strange look on her face.

"You're dead." She repeated helplessly. "At least, they all think you're dead. The whole nations in mourning."

Alistair froze mid swig of his drink then broke into a grin. "Riiiight," he drawled. "This is where you make a joke and try to make me look stupid. Well, I won't fall for it. I may have once been as gullible as I am handsome, but no longer, lady." He chuckled but then took in the expression on her face. "Wait, are you serious?"

Saóirsè nodded dumbly. Alistair replaced his cup and ran a hand through his hair. "They think I'm dead." He said slowly and then a thought struck him. "Someone must have found the cart where we fought the darkspawn and assumed the worst. They must think that you're dead, too."

Saóirsè started—this hadn't occurred to her. "Oh! Leliana, Wynne, Zevran...the news must have travelled by now: they must all think we're dead. I guess we're the last to know."

"Now that's irony." Alistair said dryly. Saóirsè went over to him and numbly sat down beside him.

"They must be so upset." She shook her head in shock, so Alistair wrapped his hands around her and pulled her up onto his lap. She was so numb she just let him.

"It's alright," he soothed. "It will be alright." She rested her head on his shoulder and Alistair brushed her damp hair to the side, releasing an intoxication scent of earth and rain. He held her closer. "In fact..." he started, broaching a subject that just popped into his head. "This could work out quite well for us."

"How's that?" Saóirsè frowned at him.

"Well, I never wanted to be king," Alistair said, raking over old history. "But I did my duty for four long years. I've paid my due. Someone else can take over now...and you, me and our daughter can go."

Saóirsè pulled away from him and stared at the man beneath her. "Just go?"

"Yes," Alistair said. "We can simply leave and find somewhere to live where nobody knows that I was a king and that we both were Grey Wardens. We've done our duty for long enough. Cat is the most important thing now—giving her a family."

Saóirsè stood from his lap and slipped from his fingertips. "What are you saying?" she burst out aghast. "What has happened to you to make you change? All this from the man who wouldn't leave Ferelden even when the situation looked so dire for us! You wouldn't even consider leaving to fetch the Orlesians—you said you wouldn't..._**couldn't**_ leave Ferelden. And now? Now you would have us run away?"

Alistair scrambled to his feet. "But don't you see? This way we can be a family with no complications. You wouldn't have to chase potential Wardens anymore, leaving Catriona behind. I wouldn't have to remain in a loveless marriage and pretend to be happy. And Cat would have both of her parents to care for her and no throne hanging over her head."

Saóirsè gaped at him. What he proposed was certainly tempting, but how could he suggest they run from their duties. "We took an oath to serve our country. You even took two oaths: one as a Warden and another as king. We can't run from that. First thing tomorrow we have to head straight for Denerim." She stopped as Alistairs face clouded over. Saóirsè sighed deeply and went over to him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Alistair. I know how much you just want to go somewhere and start afresh, but we can't. I can't leave our friends mourning us unnecessarily. I can't do that to them."

"I know," Alistair mumbled with his chin against his chest. "I know that wouldn't be fair. I just wish," he turned to her. "I just wish that just once things could be fair for us."

Saóirsè offered him a weak smile and squeezed his arm where she held it. Her touch seemed to send a spark up his arm and he swallowed hard. The air seemed to crackle suddenly and they both felt it.

"Well," Saóirsè said with a thick voice. "I guess we had better get out of these wet clothes."

Alistair's heart leapt into his neck. He cleared his throat. "I think you're right."

Saóirsè stepped backwards, but held his gaze. He watched as she very deliberately reached for the straps on her leather armour. She very slowly unhooked the shoulder straps and slid the body protector from her torso revealing the light padding underneath. She stepped out of her worn boots and then unclasped the leather skirt and pulled it off her waist, letting it fall to the ground. Then she pulled off the padding on her upper body until all she was wearing was her breeches, bra and a devilish smile.

Alistair gulped again. He made no move to remove his clothes, but Saóirsè did not take that as a reluctance to join her. She went to him, still gazing up at his face and tugged his shirt loose from his trousers. Her hands slipped under the fabric and touched his stomach muscles, but Alistair pulled back and grabbed her hands away from him. She looked at him expectantly.

"Saóirsè...what is this?" he asked. It was taking all of his willpower not to leap on her that very instant.

"I suppose..."Saóirsè shrugged coquettishly. "I feel that if you can't have some fun when you're presumed dead then when can you?"

"Is that all this is?" Alistair asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Some fun?"

"Yes..." Saóirsè said and then finally broke his gaze. "...no." Her lip started to wobble. "I don't know."

Alistair held firm although it was killing him a little big inside to see her so overwhelmed.

She raised her head and looked at him again. "I can't stop loving you." She admitted finally. "I don't want to stop. I have to be with you. I have to be."

His willpower fled. In one move he had torn his shirt from his chest and then he leant down and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her noise of pleased surprise. She kissed him eagerly then they both tugged at the others belt fastenings, seemingly racing one another to disrobe their lower halves. Once Saóirsès' breeches and Alistair's trousers were sliding down their legs, they moved backwards, kicking the clothes out of the way as they moved. Saóirsè could feel his arousal against her thighs and it made her ache. He steered her backwards to a day bed by the window and gently collapsed her onto it, propping himself with his arms so that he did not squash her. She reached for his underclothes, but he stopped her. "Wait," he said quietly. His eyes roamed over her body and a shy smile came to his face. "I can truly have you...all of you? Forever?"

"Forever and ever." Saóirsè whispered back. "I'm yours."

He buried his face in her neck and within minutes their small clothes were on the floor and they were moving together in a blissful, slow, sensual motion.

They did not get any sleep until dawn stole over the horizon.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 20**

They stole away from New Lothering very soon after Catriona awoke. Now that he had Saóirsè fully at his side Alistair was keen to return to Denerim and put paid to the untrue news of their untimely deaths. Along with that task there was much to be done. Anora had to be handled in some way. Alistair wondered if they might be able to annul their marriage, but was unsure if that would be permitted given that they had been married for three years. If the matter of his happiness wouldn't swing it, he would have to remind them of the fact that Saóirsè had provided an heir with ease, whereas Anora had consistently failed to do so. Alistair hated to think of either woman in such a way; as a failure or a success based on their fertility, yet he knew it would be his strongest argument to replace Anora with Saóirsè. Regardless of what argument was used, she had to be removed from her position of wife and queen so that Saóirsè could take her place. She was reluctant for the latter position, yet eager for the former. Alistair smiled. All would be right with the world once Saóirsè was his wife.

"Eamon, please," Wynne said quietly, yet firmly. "This has gone on for long enough. The people need to say goodbye to their king."

Eamon took a long drink from his whiskey and sighed. "There is no body." He said brusquely. "There is nothing for the people to say goodbye to."

"Nevertheless, a funeral must be held."

"Alistair was a much loved king," Leliana piped up from where she stood by the door. "There is much sorrow for the people of this nation to mourn. They need to have something to direct that mourning at, some monument."

"It is only right, Eamon." Wynne added.

Eamon drained his drink. "You're right, I know." He turned his head to gaze out of the window. "I just...well, I suppose that I am not yet ready to say goodbye myself."

Zevran turned as he heard the door open. Leliana and Wynne had returned from their meeting. "Well?" he asked, abruptly. "Has a decision been made?"

"A memorial will be held in two days time." Wynne said calmly. "Eamon will address the nation on that day detailing what is to happen next and statues will be constructed both here and at Weisshaupt."

"Is that for his royal highness only?" he asked bitterly. Leliana stepped over to him and laid her hand over his.

"Saóirsè will be honoured alongside Alistair." She said softly. "Do not worry that she will be forgotten."

"They will name a new Warden-Commander on the day of the memorial," Wynne continued. "And the Wardens will have their own memorial service for both of them back at Weisshaupt."

Zevran said nothing; he merely gritted his teeth and stared at his feet. Oghren suddenly let out a sob which made everyone jump. He buried his face in his broad hands. Leliana left the elf's side to head for the dwarf.

"I shoulda been there," he said through tears. "I coulda helped them."

"We all feel that way," Leliana soothed. "Do you think Wynne and I do not regret falling behind and leaving them to face the darkspawn alone?"

"It cannot be helped now," Wynne said solemnly. "What is done has been done and we must look forward to the future now."

Zevran whirled and glared at Wynne, his eyes blazing. "How dare you speak as though they had been dead for years? Do not talk of the future now, you stupid old woman." No-one said a word as he stormed past them, kicking a nearby chair into the wall as he did. He slammed the door behind him, but even that did not appease the rage that boiled inside his chest.

"I'm not sure of the proper etiquette regarding attending one's own memorial, but would it be considered tacky to do so?" Alistair asked Saóirsè that night as they made camp. Had it not been for Catriona they would have pushed on to reach the Denerim gates by morning, but she was asleep on her feet and so they had been forced to bed down for the night. Cat was asleep in one tent and Alistair was stretched out on the ground gazing up at the stars above them. Saóirsè glanced over at him: he seemed to be perfectly at peace, which seemed bizarre considering that they were about to return to a place where they were considered to be deceased and advise everyone otherwise. She shook her head at his statement and then went over to him, curling up against him. He slipped his arm around her and she rested her head on his chest.

"I would prefer to arrive before any service could take place," Saóirsè said. "But we'll be hard pushed to make it in time."

"Like I say," Alistair said again. "We need to know just how to present ourselves to the shocked nation."

"I just want to let our friends know we're alive," Saóirsè murmured sadly. "I dread to think about what they are going through."

Alistair twisted his neck to look down at her. She was staring up into the night sky; the light of the moon illuminated her pale face. She looked beautiful and delicate, like a painting. He rolled over to face her and she turned her face to his. "I don't mean to make light of the situation." He admitted. "You know me, though: any chance for an inappropriate joke and I'll make it. I will be glad to let Eamon know that I am alive."

"He will be pleased," Saóirsè said. "The news must have been dreadful for him to bear."

"I'm not so sure Anora will be glad to see me," Alistair said gravely. "I expect the news was quite pleasant for her."

"I don't know," Saóirsè said thoughtfully. "I can't imagine what it must be like to lose not one, but two husbands in less than five years, not to mention a father as well." Alistair stayed quiet, contemplating her words. She did have a point and it was not something he liked to dwell on. Anora had lost much during her life and he was about to take something else away from her. It was easy to forget that she was a person underneath all the scheming and maliciousness, especially when he compared her to Saóirsè. Saóirsè had lost much as well, even before he met her. An orphan who lived on the outskirts of society, who had lost her dearest childhood friend and become infected by the Taint on a chance encounter she had been forced to turn her back on everything she knew to accompany a grieving junior Warden across Ferelden to try to gather an army. Yet the essential goodness in her had never been affected. It burned as brightly then as it had the day he had met her, back in Ostagar.

"I spoiled things for both of you when I made that stupid, _**stupid**_ choice." Alistair said quietly. He gave her a sideways glance. "Did you wish, afterwards, that you had chosen to support Anora instead of me?"

Saóirsè was thoughtful for a moment. "For a while I suppose I did resent the fact that it was thanks to my hard work that got you on the throne and that I felt I was being punished for it. In dark moments I used to wonder what if...what if I hadnt pushed you to rule. I didn't think that for long. At the end of the day you exactly the king I expected you to be and that was what Ferelden needed. I made the right choice."

They both lay back and said nothing more. They simply allowed the sheer multitude of thoughts and emotions to be swallowed by the vast inky blackness above them.

They gathered on the dais where Zevran had seen them deliver the news of the Wardens deaths and prepared to address the nation. Eamon was at the fore with his brother who had travelled to be there that day. Wynne, Leliana, Zevran, Oghren and Shale stood at the back of the dais as each were to give a brief speech for both of the Wardens. The remaining Wardens stood the right of the dais. Anora was there to formally tend her abdication as queen and hand over all power to Eamon. Those who knew her well were surprised at her desire to shrug off any status she had gained. It was not reminiscent of the woman the Wardens companions had met neither back during their rescue mission during the Blight or at the now infamous Landsmeet where she had admitted that had she been chosen to rule, she would have called for Alistair's execution. She was quiet and withdrawn since she had heard the news. Her face was often wan and pale and she jumped at the slightest sound.

But there were more pressing matters to attend to on this day.

Eamon stood up and the crowd hushed at once, ready for his address.

As he began to speak Leliana noticed a two shapes enter the square where the crowds were gathered. Rather than join the throng of people, they carried on towards the dais. They were wearing cowls that obscured their faces and nobody was paying them any heed—they merely stood aside and let them pass. Leliana narrowed her eyes. There was something about these two...

"Wait," she heard herself call out as the two figures came closer still and she saw that the slower of the two was holding the hand of a small child. "Wait!"

She leapt from the dais and ran the short distance towards the couple, knowing even before she leapt into Saóirsès arms, that she was looking at her dearest friend. A massive noise of shock erupted from the crowds and Eamons tongue stilled at once. Saóirsè had Leliana clinging to her in a fierce grip, when she felt blow after blow and disappeared beneath both Zevrans and Oghrens embraces. Wynne was standing before Alistair with a look of disbelief on her face. She reached out a hand to his cheek and tears dribbled from her eyes. "My boy," she said quietly. "You do have a wonderful sense of timing."

Alistair laughed, he couldn't help it. Then he gathered Wynne into a bear hug that left her breathless. After that he stepped beside them and climbed onto the dais to grasp Eamons hand in his. The older man had tears in his eyes, too. He grinned at Tegan, then turned to Anora, who was stood as still as a statue with an odd expression on her face.

"You're alive," Anora said speaking at last. "All of you."

"Yes," Alistair said then turned to address the nation. "People of Ferelden, I apologise for the drama of our entrance. We only recently heard the news that myself and the Warden-Commander were considered to be dead. This, as you can see, is not the case. We certainly came very close a few weeks ago and were it not for the timely intervention of an old friend and ally we would not be here today."

Saóirsè felt her friends' eyes on her face at that part, and she quickly nodded to stave off any questions.

Alistair turned to Anora. "I have to tell you something."

She gave him a sad smile. "I already know about your daughter. Go ahead: introduce her."

Alistair swallowed and twitched his arm as if he were going to touch her arm, but then thought better of it. He gave a quick nod, and then gestured for Saóirsè to join him on the dais. She took Cat from Lelianas arms and slowly went to stand beside him. She felt as though there was lead in the soles of her boots. She hated the feeling of all those eyes on her baby. She just hoped they would be kind.

"I have an announcement to make to you all," Alistair called out. "I recently became aware of the fact that I...that I have a daughter." He paused as he turned to cast loving, nervous eyes over Cat who was stood right at her mother's side, holding her hand. "She was born not long after the Blight ended and I was unaware of her existence until a few weeks ago. She is a miracle creation: the child of two Grey Wardens and she is hereby named as the heir to the throne of Ferelden."

The crowd broke into a tumultuous racket; some cheered, some murmured in shock. Cat looked up at Alistair with very big eyes and he crouched down to smile at her. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "We'll go inside now if you like?" She nodded and Alistair stood again.

"I'm sure this has been a great surprise to you all," he said to the crowd who hushed again as he spoke. "But my family and I have been through a lot in recent weeks and we must retire inside again now."

The people who had gathered to jointly mourn the loss of their beloved king, watched him leave with his daughter, surrounded by his friends.

Anora followed a few paces behind everyone else. As she walked she felt the stares of every member of the crowd there. She glanced back and met the gaze of Thomas Howe. His eyes burned with wrath and made her shiver in the warm sunshine.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21**

The companions gathered in the dining hall, along with Eamon and Teagan. The looks of surprise still had not left their faces and it was making Saóirsè feel quite uncomfortable. Catriona was aware that something felt strange and so she was clinging to her mother for comfort. Saóirsè pulled her daughter onto her lap, where she snuggled against her chest.

"So, what happened?" Teagan asked finally breaking the silence.

"Morrigan." Alistair said simply. "We were overcome by dark spawn and were nearly defeated when she showed up in the nick of time. She saved our lives."

"And she just happened to be right where you two needed help?" Zevran asked, his eyebrow hiked sceptically.

"Yes," Saóirsè said in a firm voice. Alistair glanced at her; he didn't relish the idea of just blurting out to all and sundry that he had fathered a child with the witch who had known where they were due to his connection with Cat. Not right this moment anyway. He was grateful that she seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

Zevran stared at Saóirsè and a look passed between the two. He sighed and shrugged, but dropped the subject.

"I am happy to see in you one piece, Alistair," Eamon waded in. "But I am more perturbed by your decision to announce your heir before consulting anyone."

"Why is that, Eamon?" Alistair said, his voice taking on an edge that was not usually apparent. "She is my daughter and as such she is an heir to the throne—the only heir."

"Yes, but..." Eamon threw a quick apologetic look at Saóirsè who was studiously ignoring everyone in the room except Catriona. "How can we be sure?"

Many people spoke at once. Leliana and Zevran expressed their outrage on their friends' behalf; Oghren shouted for Eamon to withdraw his slanderous statement; Wynne tried to quieten everyone. Alistair and Saóirsè said nothing until the hubbub subsided. Then before Alistair could speak Teagan burst out with: "Eamon, look at the child! She is the mirror image of Alistair!"

Eamon cheeks coloured a little. "Forgive me, Commander, I had to ask."

"I understand," Saóirsè said coolly. "But if you ever try to insult me or my daughter again I will make you eat those words."

Alistair stepped over to Saóirsè and placed a hand on her shoulder. Eamon sighed as he took in the sight.

"I take it you have more to tell us?" He said wearily.

"Yes," Alistair said, drawing himself up proudly. "I intend to wed Saóirsè like I should have done four years ago. I want us to be a proper family."

"And what of your current wife?" Eamon asked exasperatedly.

"Don't worry, Eamon," they all turned to see Anora slowly walking into the room with a pinched face. "I want to exit this marriage just as much as Alistair does."

Saóirsè caught her eye and Anora could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before shame drove her to look away. The sight of the Warden and her daughter was both beautiful to Anora and heart-wrenching. Added to that was the weight of the guilt she felt for having tried to destroy her child. Anora went up to Alistair who stepped away from Saóirsè.

"I'm sorry to break this news to you in this way, Anora." Alistair said sincerely. "But I love her—I always have."

"I know." Anora looked down. "I know you never trusted me or liked me much. Well, at all. And I despaired at being married to you as well. I'm sure you don't believe me but I truly loved your brother and you two are so very different. It was all too much." She looked up at Alistair. "I only wanted to marry you because I wanted the power that came with. I no longer wish to keep that so I will not stand in the way of your desire to unite your family." Anora turned her head to look at Saóirsè. "You all deserve some happiness."

"That's all well and good, but how exactly do you propose to swap one wife for another?" Eamon asked.

Alistair didn't know how to answer this. Leliana stepped forward.

"If I may," she offered. "I believe that if you take this query to the Chantry they will be willing to annul the marriage between Alistair and Anora on the grounds that they have no children because Saóirsè and Alistair _**were**_ blessed by the Maker with Catriona. It is not a well publicized fact, but it has been known in certain cases as a way to end a childless marriage. If we put it to them they will most likely accept that the Maker intended for Alistair and Saóirsè to marry by granting them Cat, whereas He did not bless the joining of the king and queen."

Eamon looked from the bard back to Alistair and Saóirsè. Alistair had a joyful expression on his face. Eamon sighed and threw up his hands. "Very well! In the morning we will go to the Chantry and seek their approval to dissolve Alistair and Anora's marriage."

* * *

"So," Alistair came up behind her and slid his hands around Saóirsès waist. "Are you ready to become Mrs Her-Royal-Highness Theirin?"

Saóirsè bit back and smile and leaned back into him. "Let's just see what the Chantry say first before we send out invitations, shall we?"

"I know, but I'm excited." Alistair said. "When my first marriage was arranged I felt dread, nausea and regret. I'm just happy this time."

"I'm glad." Saóirsè said, twisting in the circle of his arms to face him and pressed a kiss to his lips. They stood quietly for a moment. "I'm surprised at Anora." Saóirsè said. "I thought she would fight harder to keep the throne."

"I know what you mean," Alistair said. "I expected the two of you to have a vicious fight over me." Saóirsè scoffed and hit him lightly on the chest. He laughed and landed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "You would, of course, have won it." He added as if that would make everything better. Then he turned serious. "I hope Catriona is alright with all of this. I know we explained everything before we arrived, but do you think she's happy?"

Saóirsè looked at him for a long while. "I do. I think it will take a lot of adjusting, but I think she will be fine. She's always wanted a father. She never said as much, but children wear their hearts on their sleeves and don't quite know how to mask their true feelings. She would on very few occasions ask me about you, but only rarely. I think she saw how much it pained me to talk about you even though I tried to hide it. And she's right: you will make a great father to her."

Alistair smiled and bent to kiss her again.

"Speaking of whom," Saóirsè said pulling away from him. "I had best go and put her to bed. It's been a long day following a long few weeks and she must be so tired. I'll have to prise her away from the others though; she's always had a soft spot for Oghren in particular."

"Really?" Alistair asked bemused.

"Yes," Saóirsè nodded. "I think she's drawn to the fact that he's much more her height than the rest of us."

Alistair laughed and held her tightly once more before watching her leave.

"I'll be back once she's asleep," Saóirsè said over her shoulder as she stepped through the doorway. "Don't miss me too much!"

* * *

Catriona was in the thrall of her motley groups of aunts and uncles. They were all so relieved to see her alive that they were fussing over her constantly and she adored it. Oghren had regaled her with tales from the Frostback Mountains; of Felsis latest attempts to get him straightened up and of how Sassy had recently learned how to walk and was causing him grey hairs through her wobbly steps and attempts to get into his weapons cache constantly. Zevran had told hoisted her up on his shoulders and carried her into the quarters that she was sharing with her mother and felt his spirits lift as she giggled at his antics. Leliana and Wynne had apologised for letting her get taken and then while Wynne chatted to her about Alistair, Leliana brushed out the tangles in her hair until it shone like gold. Shale observed their behaviour from a corner of the room and said nothing.

Saóirsè slipped inside the room where they were all congregated. She smiled at the sight of her daughter surrounded by those who loved her best of all. "Your daddy's gone to bed, my heart, so don't you think you ought to as well?" Catriona groaned, but the mere mention of sleep triggered a yawn that she could not stifle.

"I'm not tired," she said through the yawn and Saóirsè laughed.

"Nice try," she said. Cat stuck up her arms to be picked up and Saóirsè complied happily, cuddling her close as she took the child into the bedroom adjoining the suite. Cat fell asleep not long after being tucked in and being sung to softly. She had a contended little smile on her face that made Saóirsè heart sing.

She slipped from the room softly so as not to wake her and saw that Zevran and Leliana were waiting for her. She looked up expectantly and Zevran pulled her into an embrace.

"My dearest Warden," he murmured. "I am so happy to see you alive again."

Saóirsè hugged him back tightly. "I'm sorry I worried you. Both of you." She pulled away from Zevran and held Leliana to herself. "I hate to think of how worried you must have been."

"I told you once before I would be very cross if you did not return alive," Leliana said, dragging up their ancient history. "Yet I found I was not so much cross as terribly sad. The world felt like a very different place without you."

"Well, I promise not to do it again," Saóirsè swore. "I intend to live a long a full life...well, for a Grey Warden at least."

"That is all we can ask," Zevran grinned. Leliana gave Saóirsè a mischievous look.

"Now we do not wish to take up any more of your time as I expect a certain royal person is eagerly awaiting your return to his chambers?" she asked with a cheeky smile. Saóirsè couldn't help but blush. "Go to him. We will stay and watch Catriona. You deserve this night."

Saóirsè broke into a grin and practically bolted from the room.

* * *

Alistair was gazing out of the window; his shield was reinstated to its hanging above the view. He was blissfully contented and at peace.

It was most likely this utterly relaxed state of mind that meant he did not hear anyone enter his room. He was not prepared for an attack when he was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

He felt the knife before he realised he was no longer alone. It slid into his flesh, fitting neatly between two ribs and then it twisted harshly, sending waves of agony flashing through his body. His mouth opened in a soundless scream and he turned his head to come face to face with Thomas Howe, although he did not recognise the man. Thomas' face was contorted with disgust and lingering at the edges were signs of determination and joy. Alistair felt the knife dig in a little deeper and then it was pulled out. Thomas raised the knife to strike again as Alistairs hand clutched at his side, but then Thomas was thrown to the right. Saóirsè stood above him with her hair seemingly flaming around her head like some devastatingly dangerous angel of death. She grabbed at the sword lying across Alistair's bureau and yanked it free of its sheath, then plunged it into the neck of Thomas Howe with such force that it cracked his spine and sank into the floorboards pining him there. He writhed for a few moments as the life drained from him then lay still, but no-one saw his final moments, or cared.

Saóirsè leapt to Alistair's side as he sank to his knees and caught him as he fell. His hands were held tightly at his side and blood seeped through his fingers. "Oh Maker," Saóirsè said with a shiver in her voice. "Alistair, let me look, please, I have to see." She pried away his hands as he cried out and saw the inches long wound. It was deep and blood was flowing too freely from it. "Oh no, oh no..." she whirled her head around to scream through the open door. "Wynne! Help! Someone, help!" She turned back to her love, who was too heavy for her to hold so instead she managed to soften his landing on the hard floor.

"Alistair, look at me," she had one arm supporting his head, the other on his cheek. His eyes rolled in their sockets but finally came to rest on her face. "You're going to be fine. This is nothing more than a scratch—once Wynne gets here she'll set you right. You've had much worse than this before, haven't you?"

Alistair opened his mouth to speak and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. His words were slurred when they came out. "Hold my hand." She moved the hand on his face to his own hand and squeezed tightly. He tried to reciprocate but could not find the strength. His eyes froze boring into hers and she could see they were starting to lose their light.

"No, no, no," she said forcefully, then yelled for help again. "Alistair, don't. Don't you dare leave me now, you mustn't. You _**can't**_!"

He tried to smile, but the pain was ebbing from his wound and it was getting harder to see straight. He was determined not to lose sight of Saóirsè until he could no longer see. "Love you." He said quietly.

"Don't," Saóirsè said again. "Please don't. Not now. Not when everything's perfect..."

Alistair tried to raise his hand to touch her face but had to stop short. She clasped his hand in hers and leaned forward to kiss it and then kiss his forehead. He was getting cold. Tears sprang to her eyes and fell onto his face.

"I love you,"

Wynne, some healers and the guards finally arrived at Alistair's chambers to find him lying in a pool of his own blood and his murderer slain on the floor beside his bed. Saóirsè was draped across Alistair sobbing loudly. At first she would not be removed and screamed if anyone touched her, but then six men pulled her off the body of her love and a healer slipped a potion down her throat that clouded her eyesight and made her lull into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw was Alistairs face: his eyes were closed and his body stilled and she knew she had lost him forever this time. There would be no final reprieve this time. No witches to revive him from death.

Alistair was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

_This is it guys, the final chapter. Ok so there is an epilogue, but this is the actual last chapter! I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have and thank you for all your lovely reviews and for your patience with hard drives dying and real life buggering up my punctuality! You guys all rock. And sorry about Alistair. I cried when writing it if that makes it better? I almost put a warning note, but wanted to keep the shock factor and it seemed to work! _

_Thanks again everyone! _

* * *

Saóirsè woke screaming from her sedation and had to be given a stronger dose to quieten her. She fell back into unconsciousness, letting out whimpers as she slept.

Days passed and she managed to calm herself enough to do without the sedatives during the day. Instead she sat and cried for hours on end. No-one could approach her without receiving a wound for their efforts. She didn't seem to recognise anyone and anybody who tried to help just got shouted at.

One week after Alistair Theirin's assassination and Saóirsè left her bed in the middle of the night and followed her feet. She didn't realise she knew the way, but she found herself standing outside the room where Alistair was lying in state. There were a pair of guardsmen standing vigil outside the room, but as they were Grey Wardens themselves they recognised their Commander and stepped aside to let her enter. She didn't even see them.

Alistair's body was lying on a table draped with velvet bearing both the Wardens' and the Royal Crest. He was dressed in his armour and his sword and Duncan's shield were resting at his feet, propped against the table. His hands had been placed on his chest and his eyes were shut. The moon was the only source of light in the room and it bathed Alistair in a milky glow that disguised his grey pallor and sallow skin. He looked almost as if he were made of stone.

Saóirsè barely breathed as she slowly stepped over to his body. She reverently reached out her hand and brushed his forehead. His hair tickled her palm. Her other hand slipped under his. He was so cold. A sob escaped through her lips and echoed around the silent room.

"I miss you," she said, and then she was on her knees beside the table, grasping his icy hand and weeping quietly and whispering her now lost hopes and dreams into thin air.

When she was all cried out, she stood and kissed him on the cheek. Then she turned and left the room, knowing this time that she had a destination in mind.

* * *

Catriona didn't wake up as her mother pulled back the covers and slid into bed beside her. Zevran was asleep in the chair by the window and he remained asleep as well. Catriona turned towards Saóirsè in her sleep and Saóirsè tucked her into an embrace. She kissed her baby's hair and snuggled up besides her, feeling the guilt of days of neglect.

Catriona awoke first and watched her mother's sleeping face. In sleep, Saóirsè looked peaceful but for the small line of anxiousness that creased her forehead. Cat pressed two fingers to the worry line and rubbed it away as if she could smooth out all her concerns and make everything better.

After a short while Saóirsè woke to the feeling of soft fingers tracing the skin on her face. Her eyes opened to see her daughters face peering at hers.

"Hello baby," she said.

"Mamae," Catriona said quietly.

"I am sorry I have not been there for you, little one," Saóirsè said with a voice laden with deep regret. "I'm going to look after you better from now on."

Cat said nothing but nuzzled closer into her mother's form and they fell back asleep.

* * *

Saóirsè was finally ready to speak with Eamon. She went to his private office first thing that morning and knocked. When she entered he seemed surprised to see her.

"Eamon, I need a word." She said, walking towards his desk where he sat behind it almost hidden by papers and documents. He put everything aside and laid his hands on the table before him.

"What have you told the nation?" she asked first, clenching and unclenching her fists with nerves.

"I have passed on the sorry news of our kings passing." Eamon said steadily.

"Right," Saóirsè said, beginning to pace. "Right. Well, what is going to happen with the crown now?" Eamon opened his mouth to reply, but Saóirsè cut him off. "Because Catriona is far too young for this responsibility."

"I agree, Saóirsè." Eamon said kindly. "What the country needs now is stability and it has been unanimously agreed that I should continue in my role as regent for the time being."

Saóirsè stopped her pacing for the moment. "Fine, that's good. The people trust you and you're an excellent regent. But it's not a long term solution. It mattered to Alistair that Catriona should be his heir—he formally named her a week ago. We fought hard to get a Theirin on the throne and Cat is a Theirin. One day you will step down and Catriona will be crowned queen." She resumed her pacing. "I don't want that to happen any time soon however. She's coming up for four years old and that's far too young to take this on."

"I disagree." Eamon said carefully. "This is the perfect age to begin instructing her in the minutiae of politics and decorum."

"No." Saóirsè stopped and leaned forward bracing her arms against the desk. "Not while I'm around."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Eamon asked sighing.

"She can't take the crown until she is of age at eighteen." Saóirsè said. "Therefore she will begin her instructions at sixteen."

"No, that is too late." Eamon said shaking his head. "It needs to be while she is still young. I propose to begin at five."

"Too young." Saóirsè pushed away from the desk and crossed her arms. "Fourteen?"

"Too _**old**_." Eamon counted rising from his chair.

"Eamon!" Saóirsè cried out in exasperation. "She's my baby. The only thing—" her voice caught. She sighed and composed herself before going on. "She's the only thing I have left to connect me with Alistair. I can't let her go of her so easily."

"I understand, Saóirsè—" Eamon said raising his hands up but he got cut off.

"No, you don't." Saóirsè said abruptly. "You really don't." She ran her hands over her face. "Alistair and I did our duty to this country time and time again. Were it not for us Ferelden would have been overcome by darkspawn during the Blight and since we stopped that, we have both worked tirelessly in our tasks; he ruling the country and making long desired changes; I re-building the Grey Wardens. Alistair's duty to provide an heir stood in the way of our happiness. We have done our duty long enough. All I want is a break."

Eamon let out a long sigh and scratched at his beard. "Very well." He said finally. "Ten years old. That gives you another six years with Catriona before she begins her tuition. You can do as you please as long as keep her safe and protected—which I know you will." He said quickly seeing her face cloud over. "Then you must both return to Denerim when Catrionas lessons will begin."

Saóirsè considered for a moment. Six years seemed like a very short time, but at least they would have the freedom to do as they pleased for that time. "Very well." She said quietly.

She then drew herself up and squared up to Eamon expecting a rebuff. "The first thing that Catriona and I will do is travel to Weisshaupt with Alistair's body. He will be interred at the fortress with the Grey Wardens of old for all he did for his country."

"Now, wait—!"

"This is not up for discussion, Eamon." Saóirsè said sternly. "I have higher authority than you and I know what Alistairs wishes would have been. He felt more at home with the Grey Wardens than ever and he would want to return to the place where they are most revered. This is not up for discussion."

With that she turned and stalked from the room, leaving Eamon to grit his teeth, but unable to argue.

* * *

Leliana and Zevran were playing a game with Catriona in the gardens when Saóirsè found them. They stopped what they were doing and waited for their friend and former leader to reach them. Saóirsè looked up at them with a shameful expression.

"I'm sorry I went off the rails there." She started but both stopped her in her tracks.

"My dear Warden," Zevran said. "If you think that we know and understand nothing of loss and regret then you have not listened to any of our tales."

"It is true," Leliana said slipped her arm through Saóirsès'. "We do not find it strange that you reacted as you did. Recovering after a week only shows your great strength of character."

Saóirsè looked up with tears in her eyes. "I don't feel very strong."

Then she felt a small hand clasp hers and she looked down at Cat who offered her a smile. Saóirsè knelt down and gathered her up into a hug.

"Excuse me?" The hug was broken by a timid sounding handmaiden who had come up behind them all. All four turned expectantly. "My lady Anora requires an audience with the Warden-Commander, if she will acquiesce?"

Saóirsè frowned. This couldn't be good. "Very well, does she want to see me now?"

"Yes please," the handmaiden said. "She is waiting in her chambers."

Saóirsè looked at Zevran and Leliana who looked just as confused as she was. "Will you watch Cat for me for a little while longer?"

"Of course," Leliana said at once.

"I'll see you in a little while."

* * *

Anora took a deep breath when Saóirsè entered her room. Anora was stood on her small balcony that overlooked the gardens. She turned and took in Saóirsès appearance. She had not see the woman since Alistair's death when she had caught sight of her being dragged screaming from the room. The sight had terrified her; when Cailan had died she had fainted then taken to her bed where she lost the baby. She had never seen such a display of raw, primal agony. She had been told Saóirsè had become catatonic with grief but was now free from that thrall and was able to reason. Anora could see the pain on Saóirsès face and the weariness in her stance, but she still carried herself like a warrior queen.

Anora stepped into the room.

"I am sorry to steal you away from your daughter right now," Anora said sincerely. "But it is urgent that I speak with you." Saóirsè just stood and observed the queen. "First of all I have to let you know how sorry I am."

Saóirsè looked at the floor. "He was your husband." She mumbled. Anora shook her head.

"Let us not continue this charade." She said vehemently. "He was my husband in name only. He was your love and yours alone."

Saóirsè turned her head away so that Anora could not see her tears, but she saw them anyway. Her face coloured with guilt. "I'm sorry for more than your loss." She said slowly, finding it hard to drive the words from her mouth. Saóirsè looked back, quizzically. Anora shuddered at what she was about to say. "I am sorry for my involvement in the kidnapping of your child."

Saóirsè' eyes narrowed at once. "What do you mean?" she asked dangerously.

"I..." Anora forced herself to meet the elf's stare. "I instigated the whole thing." Now that one statement was out, the rest came in a sudden rush. "I was threatened by you to begin with, but when I realised that you had a child, a child with Alistair, I was even more terrified of being deposed. Alistair had told me it was impossible for two Grey Wardens to reproduce, so to learn of Catrionas existence shook me to my core. The impossible had been done, yet I...I who supposedly came from a fertile family could not manage it myself. I tried so hard...I knew it wouldn't be easy due to Alistair being a Grey Warden, but I tried. I hoped and prayed to the Maker but every month I received nothing but disappointment." Saóirsè listened quietly, so Anora carried on talking. She couldn't seem to stop now she had begun. "I had a baby once, you know. Cailans baby. He never even knew I was pregnant—he died before I could tell him. Then I lost the baby. I lost my husband and child within days of one another. It's no excuse, I know and I'm not telling you because I want your sympathy—Andraste knows I don't deserve it. I guess I feel I need to get this off my chest. I've never told anyone about my lost baby you see."

Anora seemed very small now. Saóirsè felt the rage she had been expecting, but it was dull and limp within her. She did feel pity for the queen, but only a small part. Every feeling she had seemed very far away from the surface. It was all she could do just to listen.

"I...I do not ask for forgiveness." Anora said slowly. "I just need you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry for trying to take your child from you. I don't know how I could have done that."

"What changed?" Saóirsè asked suddenly. "If you're so scared of losing power, why practically had it over when we returned?"

Anora smiled wanly. "I realised you cannot lose what you never had." She admitted. "I never really had any power after Alistair gained the throne. He was a far better king than his brother had been and I wasn't needed in the same way. My only goal was to birth an heir and I failed at that task. Now I just want to be free."

Saóirsè walked very slowly and deliberately over to Anora and came face to face with the taller woman. "I should kill you," she said coldly. "For what you did to me and my daughter you deserve no less."

"I know." Anora said resignedly. Saóirsè sighed.

"I can't." She said. "I can't bring myself to do it. There has been too much bloodshed of late. I just want you to leave me and mine alone now."

"Oh I will." Anora said in a strange, dreamy voice. "I shan't bother you again. You see, I said I wanted to be free..." she turned and walked towards her balcony. "For a women like me there is no freedom to be had. I have done too much wrong in this world to ever be free from my guilt. I wanted to confess it all to you—I felt I owed you that much." She stopped by her window and turned back to Saóirsè. Anora's hair was coming loose from the elaborate plaits she wore it in and a few blonde wisps blew in the breeze. She smiled and looked younger somehow. Full of hope. "Goodbye, Warden. I wish you well."

Saóirsè suddenly realised what Anora was doing and rushed forward. But she was too late. Anora broke into a run and vaulted over the balcony wall. Saóirsè reached it and thrust her hand over the wall, but the silk of Anora's dress slipped through her fingers. She watched in horror as the queen fell to the gardens and hit the ground with a thud. She pushed herself away from the wall and fell onto her backside. Her eyes were streaming with tears and she was shaking. When she stood up and made to leave the room, her eyes alighted on a scrap of parchment underneath a paperweight. Its edges flapped in the breeze. She slid it from under the weight and scanned it. Suicide note. Saóirsè carried it from the room.

* * *

The queen was buried beside her father in the graveyard of Denerim a week later. That same day Alistair Theirin's body was prepared for transit and Saóirsè and Catriona were packed and ready to accompany it. Travelling with them were Wynne, Leliana, Zevran, Oghren and Shale. Saóirsè had named a senior Warden to stand in for her as Commander during the six years she was taking off with Catriona. Every loose end was tied up, but for Alistairs entombment in Weisshaupt.

Saóirsè turned to Catriona. "Are you ready, baby?"

Cat looked up at her mother and smiled. "Ready."

They led the procession out of Denerim and began the long journey to take Alistair back home.

The End

Chapter 22


	24. Chapter 24

**Epilogue**

"**Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."**

**-The Princess Bride**

Saóirsè shivered in anticipation as the doors shut behind her. She was fifty-eight, older than she had ever thought she would become and she was heading into the deep roads. She was satisfied to be heading to her death now. She had lived for twenty-eight years in a world without Alistair and had welcomed the dreams when they started up again. Her time was now. It was right.

She smiled as she withdrew the blades Catriona had gifted her a few years ago. They were perfectly balanced and inlaid with silver. They sang as they swished through the air. Catriona was a good queen. During their six year holiday, Saóirsè had taken Cat all over Ferelden and beyond to learn all she could about how people truly lived outside the nobility of Denerim. She was more popular even than her father had been and in spite of Saóirsè' worries about the Taints effects on her health, she was strong and thriving. She had met and married the second son of Fergus Cousland, the Teryn of Highever, and given Saóirsè three beautiful grandchildren.

Wynne had died ten years ago and Saóirsè had been with her as she died. The mage had joked that she would seek out Alistair in the Fade and check up on him for her, before she closed her eyes for the final time. Saóirsè had smiled and held her hand.

Leliana and Zevran had travelled with Saóirsè during those six wonderful years, before they all settled down in Denerim. Leliana had met and fell in love with a Grey Warden recruit and married him after only a year. They had had a little girl together a year later. Zevran had never married, but he assured his friends he was quite happy to work his way through the men and women of Ferelden.

Saóirsè recovered from her reverie to duck down a side passage and head for the sound of battle cries. She snuck through until she was almost upon them, and then burst forth yelling loudly. She leapt into the centre of a throng of darkspawn and began to whirl those beautiful blades and spatter herself with the blood of those she had felled. She laughed out loud as she drove them into grenlocks and hurlocks and they fell all around her. Her spirits were light and she felt invincible.

* * *

She opened her eyes to bright light. Looking around she saw she was stood on a featureless landscape, but then she clapped eyes on a figure coming closer towards her. She gasped as Alistair came up to her and swept her up into her arms.

"Thank you for waiting for me," Saóirsè said.

"Thank you for taking your time to get here." Alistair murmured as he bent down to kiss her.

Saóirsè smiled against his face, peace filling every fibre of her being for the first time in nearly thirty years.


End file.
